When You Wish Upon a Star
by Je Love You
Summary: Belle French is no longer happy in Storybrooke, wanting more than what life has to offer. One night, a wish upon a star brings her to a far-off land where there are ogres, werewolves and other beasts. Thankfully, she also happens upon a wool spinner and his son, but acquiring a certain dagger changes everything. (AU)
1. Wishes Always Come With A Price

When You Wish Upon a Star

Summary: Belle French is no longer happy in Storybrooke, wanting more than what life has to offer. One night, a wish upon a star brings her to a far-off land where there are ogres, werewolves and other beasts. Thankfully, she also happens upon a wool spinner and his son, but acquiring a certain dagger changes everything. (AU)

**A/N: **Hello everyone! This fic is an AU where the Belle from our world enters Fairy Tale Land and meets Rumplestiltskin before he becomes the Dark One. To be clear, Belle is the only character that is in the real world; all the other characters are still in the Enchanted Forest. This chapter starts off a little slow, but it gets better! I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Once Upon a Time.

* * *

Chapter 1: Wishes Always Come With a Price

Belle sighed as she heard the door to her library open. Normally she loved spending her days there, but today she just wanted to go home and rest. She kept her back to the counter, busying herself with the book cart in the hopes the customer didn't need to speak with her.

"Excuse me," a voice said, and Belle briefly closed her eyes. No such luck.

"Yes?" she replied pleasantly as she turned around. "What can I help you with?" She watched as the elderly woman's gaze flickered, staring at something on Belle's face without meeting her gaze.

"Oh, my. What happened to you, child?"

Belle sidestepped the question with a feigned smile.

"What can I help you with?" she asked again. The woman looked troubled, but pulled a book out of her purse nonetheless.

"I just came to return this book…"

It had been like that all day. People coming in and out had stared at her like she was an alien, looking at her face but never directly in the eye. When it finally came time to close, Belle locked up and pulled out her cell phone. Six o'clock on the dot, and as usual, her mother, Mirabelle French, was calling.

"Belle," she said once she answered. "You're going to have to bus home tonight."

"What?" she replied, furrowing her eyebrows. "But you said-"

"Change of plans. A few friends want to go out and have some drinks. I'll be back late. Leave dinner in the fridge for me, okay? I'll heat it up when I get in."

"… Sure, Mom," Belle said quietly, knowing there was no point to reminding her mother she had gone out for drinks every night that week. If her mother noticed the disappointment in her voice, she pretended not to, hanging up with a quiet beep. Belle cursed under her breath when she realized she had no change to pay bus fare.

_Guess I'm walking home tonight_.

Her high heels clicked loudly with every step. Had she known she would have to make the hour walk home, she would have worn more comfortable shoes. Belle loved her mother in the way a child has to love a parent, but she always made such terrible choices. Mirabelle was about to get married to a rich man, convinced he could make all of their money troubles disappear. Because of this, Belle watched, seething, as her mother turned a blind eye to all of her fiancé's late 'work nights'. She would go on and on about how the wedding was going to be perfect. The stress of the entire event, however, was getting to her. No matter how much Belle tried to help, Mirabelle's temper was shorter than normal. The later her soon-to-be stepfather stayed out each night, the more Mirabelle drank. Belle couldn't just sit idly by and watch her mother take a turn for the worst, so she tried to reach out to her. Unfortunately, she wasn't yielding good results, and her intended 'talks' quickly turned into heated arguments, and Belle could never seem to catch her at a time when her mother wasn't reeking of alcohol.

It only got worse as the wedding date loomed closer. It started small: Mirabelle would shake Belle's shoulders to get her to stop yelling during an argument. Eventually, she went so far as to shove her into a wall so she could walk away. Belle tried to tell her mother not to go through with the wedding, that this man was changing her, but Mirabelle's temper continued to escalate. Just last night, when Belle asked why she was willingly marrying a cheater, Mirabelle struck her. It was a hard, backhand blow that left the prints of her knuckles across her cheek. The most prominent bruise was the one left behind by the large, sharp diamond ring.

"Argh!" Belle growled out loud as her ankle rolled, the heel of her shoe breaking as she tripped over an uneven part of the sidewalk. She tumbled a bit, scraping her knee on the cement but managing to catch herself with her hands. She pulled herself onto the nearby park bench. The heel had snapped clean off; she couldn't walk home like this. She pulled out her phone again and dialed the number for a taxi, hanging up after being given an estimated wait time of fifteen minutes.

Belle spent several minutes in silence, only looking up when she saw a familiar car drive by. Her eyes widened – it was her mother on her way to the bar!

"Mom!" she called out, standing awkwardly with one leg standing taller than the other. The car slowed to a stop beside her, and Mirabelle rolled down the window.

"Belle? What happened?"

"My shoe broke – can you give me a ride home before you go to the bar? Please, I can't walk like this and cabs cost a fortune."

"Sorry Belle," she said, revving the engine. "I'm already late and our place is completely out of the way. Just pay the cab okay? One time won't hurt you."

"Wait - Mom!" she yelled as she drove off, stomping her foot when the Honda disappeared from sight. Her mother could be such a jerk sometimes. She threw her cell phone in anger, not caring that her screen shattered as it hit the pavement. She collapsed onto the park bench again, pulling a book out of her purse and hugging it to her chest. In her book, this is where the hero would come to rescue the damsel in distress. In her book, he would help her wherever she needed to go. In her book, there would be more to her story than a mother and a library… Belle tilted her head up to look at the stars; one shone with particular luminosity, and Belle closed her eyes.

_I wish…_ Belle began to think of how life would be had she grown up differently. Perhaps with a caring father, and not an alcoholic mother. She thought of having the car and the house all to herself, her arms and face without bruises. She thought of having a person that would actually be courteous enough to drive her home as promised; she thought of someone who would hold her instead of harm her, and tell her she could be anything she wished to be. The images brought a smile to her face.

She felt her chest rise in contentedness, the happy thoughts enough to put her at ease and calm her down after the rather unfortunate start to her Friday evening. Belle didn't see the bright lights of the taxi as it turned the corner, or hear its honk. All she saw was light, and all she felt was warmth.

But then, Belle realized, the warmth faded and the light dimmed. She wasn't entirely sure when she had lost consciousness, but an extreme cold woke her, nipping at her ears and her neck. When she finally became aware of herself again, Belle sat up, surprised to feel twigs breaking beneath her. Her knee was still bleeding from the scrape, and her shoe was still broken, but she was somewhere else.

Where was she?

Belle dusted herself off, shivering a bit as she looked out over long fields of the greenest grass she had ever seen. Was she dreaming? She tried to balance herself despite her uneven footwear, but a foreign breeze fell upon her, and Belle pursed her lips when she realized it was much warmer than it should be.

She looked up, her eyes widening when she saw a large, brutish creature standing above her, its breaths loud and heavy. Her first instinct was to scream very loudly, hoping to alert someone of her peril. She kicked off her shoes at the creature, praying her heel would stab him and momentarily deter him. She ran as fast as she could; rocks and other debris were jabbing at the soles of her bare feet, but she ignored the pain and kept running. The creature was not far behind.

"Mom?" she cried out, hoping she was still nearby. "Mom, _help!_" Belle knew she was crazy if she still thought she was still in Storybrooke. Storybrooke didn't have nearly as many trees, or nearly as much grass. This _thing _was hot on her trail, and Belle was certain that if she weren't running for dear life, she'd be bawling her eyes out in absolute terror.

To add insult to injury, Belle realized she had chosen a foolish route and cornered herself; a rock wall stood before her, and to her side, a hill that was so steep it may as well have been a cliff. She whimpered quietly, pressing her back against the jagged wall.

She watched it as it clumsily ran through the trees searching for her; it seemed like the creature could not clearly see where it was going, often stumbling over something in plain sight. Belle held her breath and ceased her movements, turning her head away when it stood right in front of her, sniffing the air. Eventually, the giant monster turned around and walked back whence it came, and Belle felt her shoulders droop with relief. Her rapid heartbeat began to slow, and in her relief she sunk down to the ground.

"What the hell _was_ that," she moaned. Belle waited for a long time, only standing when she was certain it was safe. The repercussions of running without shoes were unpleasantly evident now that the adrenaline rush had faded; every step she took stung like no tomorrow. She half-limped through the forest, trying to make as little noise as possible. She winced each time a branch broke beneath her foot or leaves rustled beneath her steps.

This had to be some kind of nightmare. Belle blinked hard despite the protest of her bruised eye, trying to wake herself up. The last thing she could remember was sitting on a park bench waiting for a taxi. Now she was in some sort of monster-infested forest.

Belle's stomach growled from hunger, but she didn't know this world well enough to even consider munching on a berry from the surrounding bushes. She was rather dismayed at her lack of survival skills, making a mental note to add more non-fiction books to her reading list.

"Come now, Bae," came a gentle voice, rustling nearby. "I still need to get supper cooking on the fire. Enough playing for now."

"I'm not playing," another voice responded, much younger and a tad defiant. "I heard one, I swear. A damsel in distress!"

"Well, perhaps a knight has already swept her off her feet," the older man suggested kindly. Belle peeked around a tree, relieved that she wasn't faced with talking animals or something. An ordinary father and his son were close by. They were talking about her; they'd heard her scream and they'd come to investigate. Belle squinted – were they carrying lamps fashioned from old candles? Hadn't they ever heard of flashlights? Her gaze traveled up and down their tattered clothing, looking like they had stepped right out of a movie similar to Lord of the Rings.

"I'll rescue a damsel one day, Papa, you'll see," the boy said, making his father laugh and ruffle his hair.

"I'm sure you will." Belle contemplated speaking up, but her encounter with that monster earlier made her hesitate. If there were creatures like that running around, who was to say these ordinary people wouldn't turn into demons or something if she startled them? All she wanted was food and a place to rest until she could try and find out what direction Storybrooke was in, so she followed them. She tried again to be silent, holding her breath and stepping lightly. Perhaps they would lead her to a town, and she could find a place to stay at the inn. She may not have any cash on her, but she had her Visa.

Just as she had hoped, the pair led her to a small village. She couldn't help but notice how dilapidated everything was; people didn't have houses so much as they had huts. There were no apartments that she could see, and the lack of street lamps had her squinting through the darkness. Hiding behind a small trough, she waited for the father and son to disappear into one of the smallest properties.

Belle jumped when she heard a loud '_baaah_' coming from a small barn behind the hut. She knew she should find the town's inn to avoid any potential breaking and entering charges, but the cuts on her feet were clouding her judgment. Plus, by the look of the town, this place probably didn't even have an ATM. She didn't have to look at her feet to know they were bleeding from walking barefoot; she just wanted to lie down and rest.

So, Belle snuck towards the barn. She peered through the window, marveling at the lack of glass but also happy to see that no one was there. She was actually quite surprised the barn sheltered only sheep and no other animals, but honestly, she didn't care enough to question why. She quickly jumped through the window, ungracefully landing on a bale of hay. She spotted a ladder and, promising her tired feet that it would just be a little bit longer, she climbed up to the rafters. The ladder led to a small platform that held a rotting desk and two small beds made of hay. She knew that if it was set up this way, someone was already living there, and that meant she would probably get caught sooner or later.

Unfortunately, she had nowhere else to go. It was too late to try and ask local businesses for directions back to Storybrooke. She sunk into one of the hay beds, sighing as her muscles slowly relaxed into the makeshift mattress. Her eyes closed, the relief of being off her feet overwhelming and the events of the day catching up with her.

* * *

Rumplestiltskin remembered the days Bae used to run around the market, pointing to various stalls and proclaiming how wonderful everything was. Milah and him would trail behind, smiling at the one thing they had bonded over: their son. He would ask for a toy, but they were always too expensive to justify. He could use the money on extra bread for their meal, or an extra shawl to keep them warm in the winter.

Eventually Milah had confronted him about his frugality; he tried to explain that it took four hours of spinning to afford even the cheapest toy for Bae. She had never been quiet about their fights, so of course, little Bae had overheard. The next week at the market, his son, bless his heart, felt guilty and told them stories of how one day, he would make them proud. He would buy them all the toys they wanted when he grew up and became as rich as a knight. Of course, Bae's words made him feel ashamed and guilty that he could not provide his only child with even a small luxury.

Rumplestiltskin glanced at Baelfire, just a bit older now as they strolled through the week's market. Ever since Milah had been taken, Bae had stopped saying anything at all, settling to help his father stock up produce for the week.

"Papa, you look weary," Bae said as he handed coins to an elderly woman for a head of lettuce. "Didn't you sleep well?"

"I slept just fine, Bae," Rumplestiltskin assured him.

"Was it the ogre from last night?" Bae pressed anyway. "Were you worried about that damsel we heard?"

"No, Bae, I worry for _us_," he said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "We were lucky we saw the ogre as it was walking away. It shouldn't be so close to the town. The war's front line is miles and miles from here." His expression hardened as he thought about the ogre wars, bitterness making his lips twitch downwards as he limped. He stopped in his tracks when Bae turned, untying the satchel of coins from Rumplestiltskin's belt.

"I'll purchase the rest of the stock for the week," he told him. "Go rest by the river; I'll meet you there after I've dropped everything off at home."

"I'm okay to finish," Rumplestiltskin said, but Bae placed his hands over his own.

"Let me help, Papa. Please? Ease my worry for you and go rest by the river." Rumplestiltskin hesitated, but his bad leg wobbled, longing for rest after the hour they had spent walking.

"All right," he finally agreed. "Meet me at the river in half an hour, no longer."

At this time of day, the river was almost always deserted. The weekly market stole the attention of the townspeople, leaving the river peaceful for him and Bae. They'd made it a tradition of sorts to get up early on the market days and be there for opening. They would finish earlier than the rest of the town and spend an hour at the river completely alone. He was looking forward to the extra time Bae had given him to rest his leg, so he hobbled towards the river with a smile.

But then he hobbled right back, hiding behind a tree.

There was someone in the river! He snuck a peek, trying to see if he could identify the person: was it Shay, the housewife with three of four children sent to war? Or perhaps it was Tanya, the soon-to-be mother doing her laundry a day early.

The second he laid his eyes on her, he knew she was too beautiful to be from his town. She was sitting on the surface of a large rock protruding from the middle of the river, the edges of her sky blue dress damp from the water. He had never seen such garb before – her dress looked it was made of sheer silk, and it clung to her body in a way that he never knew was possible. It was also much shorter than he was used to; it stopped just above her knee instead of going all the way down to cover her ankles.

He realized with a fierce blush that he had been staring at her legs, and he forced his gaze to her face again. He squinted into the distance; the beauty looked rather sad. She had torn a bit of fabric off her dress and was dipping it into the river. She turned her head, and he swallowed a gasp when he saw her face. Dark, purple bruising wrapped around her left eye and trailed down to her cheekbone. She was now using damp fabric to wipe at her feet, which were covered in dry blood. What had happened to her?

He thought back to the ogre from last night; maybe there really had been somebody and Bae hadn't just been playing make believe. Rumplestiltskin quickly shed the thought; if an ogre had struck a woman of her small stature, she would not have survived the blow, especially since the blow was to her head. Upon a closer look, the bruising seemed more shaped like a hand: he was almost certain knuckle imprints were on her cheek, and long silhouettes of fingers crossed her eye.

Rumplestiltskin realized that he probably should make his presence known. If the young woman discovered he was hiding in the brush, he might give the wrong impression. He took one step out from behind the tree, his eyes widening when he saw a black knight getting off his horse. He'd been so lost in his thoughts he hadn't even heard him coming!

Of course she was meeting someone. She was probably some beautiful damsel that was courting a handsome and heroic knight. He turned on his heel to leave.

"Get away from me!"

_However_, that didn't exactly sound like the greeting of a healthy young couple. Rumplestiltskin turned around, still hiding in the foliage. He was particularly good at making himself invisible.

"Come, lass, surely you don't wear a dress that short and not expect the attention?" the knight chortled as Belle edged away from him on the rock.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" she yelled, and Rumplestiltskin blanched. He'd never heard a lady speak so rudely to a knight before.

"This dress goes to my knees, there are plenty shorter!"

"Not in these parts, there aren't," the knight responded. "You can't really try and tell me those bruises came from a loving husband, eh? Perhaps more a feisty customer?" Rumplestiltskin felt sick. Were these really the types of people that were glorified in fairy tales? This knight was corrupted, and he was clearly harassing the girl, who was already injured enough. He watched in silent horror as the knight grasped in a rather inappropriate area, lifting the hem of her dress.

_Smack!_

"How _dare_ you!" the woman exclaimed after slapping him hard across the face. She seemed to realize her mistake fairly quickly though, because soon she was shrieking as he grabbed her easily by the shoulders and forced her to lay down on the surface of the rock.

"Hey! Hey _you!_"

Rumplestiltskin's eyes widened as he saw his own son practically fly by him, throwing rocks at the knight.

"Get off of her! What did she ever do to you?"

His jaw dropped.

"Move along, kid, unless you want to get conscripted to the ogre wars early," the knight growled. Bae threw another rock at the knight, and Rumplestiltskin snapped back to reality.

"Hey- that's- that's my mother, that is!" Bae yelled, stumbling over his words for just a moment.

_Oh, Lord._ Rumplestiltskin could feel the colour drain from his face as he hobbled behind his son.

"Bae," he hissed. "What're you doing, boy?"

"Come on, Papa," Bae replied in an equally quiet tone. "Damsel in distress!"

"Mother?" The knight repeated, immediately clambering off of her.

"Yeah!" Bae kicked Rumplestiltskin's good ankle, to try and get some support.

"R-r-right," he replied, weakly trembling a bit and leaning on his staff for support. "My w-wife."

The knight looked embarrassed for only a fraction of a second, but he climbed back up on his horse, head tilted high.

"You best get your wife some better clothing then. I mistook her for a common prostitute."

"S-sorry," Rumplestiltskin stuttered, and Bae sent him a glare before addressing the knight again.

"Don't talk about my mother that way! I'll report you if you don't get out of here!" Bae watched fiercely as the knight hopped on his steed and galloped away, only breaking the glare when he was fully out of sight. He ran to the woman's side.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Well, I am thanks to you," she said with a smirk. "You're pretty brave for your age, you know that?"

"I've always wanted to rescue a damsel in distress," he said proudly, his grin faltering when he spotted her bruises. "What happened to your face?"

"Bae," Rumplestiltskin scolded. She just laughed, waving a dismissive hand.

"Well I was certainly in distress back there. The knight, he ah, must have struck me. My name's Belle." Rumplestiltskin narrowed his eyes, knowing immediately that she had been lying. He'd seen those bruises well before that knight appeared, but he didn't say anything. It was probably better that she didn't know he'd been hiding behind a tree staring at her legs.

"I'm Baelfire," he said, puffing his chest out as he shook her hand. "This is my Papa, Rumplestiltskin."

"Wow, that's quite a mouthful," Belle said, reaching a hand out to him. Rumplestiltskin shook it warily.

"Thank you?" he said uncertainly. Belle laughed.

"You're doing an excellent job raising this one," she told him. "Back in my town people would have just turned the corner without stopping to actually help me. _Maybe_ they would call 911. Chivalry and bravery are pretty dead over there."

"Call what?" he asked, eyebrows furrowing confusion.

"What's 911? Is that a person?" Bae asked as well. Belle looked between the two of them, arching a brow as though they were the strange ones.

"You're kidding. You guys don't have an emergency dispatch? I figured that was standard pretty much everywhere. Where's your nearest phone, then? I lost my way and I just want to try and contact somebody."

"Phone?" Little Bae looked confused, and Rumplestiltskin wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"I'm not sure what a phone is," he said. "But we can direct you to the nearest inn. They might be able to help you there."

Bae was looking at Belle's feet now.

"Where are your shoes?"

* * *

Belle had never met such kind strangers in her life. The young boy, Baelfire, was a ray of sunshine. She didn't have a place to stay, she didn't know where she was, or how to get home. Despite all this, the child could make her smile and ease her worries. She walked with them, matching Rumplestiltskin's slow pace due to all the cuts and bruises on her bare feet. He seemed quite wary of her – he was not as willing as Baelfire to trust a stranger. Whenever she glanced at him, he was always watching his son, pointing out things that he might trip over and being careful he didn't injure himself. His love for the boy was endearing.

Baelfire led her to their small hut, which she recognized from the night before. She didn't say anything, not wanting them to know she had seen them searching for her or that she had broken into the barn nearby. He pushed open the door and Belle saw Rumplestiltskin hesitate.

"Bae," he said gently. "What do you need from home?" He limped towards their door, but before he could enter, the child was running right back outside, holding a pair of small purple slippers. Belle couldn't help but notice how worn they looked, and how they looked nowhere near as comfortable as the slippers she had at home.

"Here!" Baelfire exclaimed, proudly presenting her with the used footwear. Belle's lips parted in surprise, and she spared a glance at Rumplestiltskin, who looked entirely uncomfortable with the situation. She decided to side with the father for now.

"Oh- no, I couldn't," Belle said as kindly as she could, holding her hands out in protest. Baelfire shook his head.

"You have no shoes, Miss Belle. Your feet are already bleeding again from the walk. You need these more than we do."

"Are they your mother's?" Belle asked. "Won't she get mad you're giving these away?"

"My mother passed a few years ago," the boy said. "I don't think she'll be mad."

Belle saw grief on Rumplestiltskin's tired face, and she just didn't have the heart to take the slippers, no matter how much she wanted to.

"It's very sweet of you to offer, Baelfire, but I couldn't accept these. They're too special to you both."

Rumplestiltskin took the slippers from Baelfire's hands then, and held them out to Belle. He was still frowning a bit, avoiding eye contact.

"Take them. You need them. There's an inn not too far down from here. You just keep going down this way until you hit the flagpole. Take a right, and you'll see the inn's sign on your left-hand side."

With the father's blessing, Belle accepted the shoes, gratefully sliding them onto her feet.

"Thank you," she said. She smiled but he still wouldn't look at her, so she leaned down and gave Baelfire a kiss on the cheek.

"You are quite a gentleman." When she stood up she kissed Rumplestiltskin on the cheek too, finally succeeding in making him look at her, his face going a bit pink. He looked like he was about to say something, but Baelfire spoke before he had the chance.

"Where are you headed?"

"Storybrooke," Belle answered, feeling a bit apprehensive when the town's name didn't register with either of them.

"Well, I'm sure someone at the inn will know how to get there," Rumplestiltskin said, once again sounding uncertain.

"Good day to you, Belle," Baelfire said. "I hope we get to see you again before you leave." Belle smiled.

"Good day to you too," she said, such manners feeling foreign on her tongue. "Thank you for all your help."

It felt wrong leaving them; she was on her own and she didn't know how to get back home. They had been kind, and they knew far more about this area than she did. She glanced over her shoulder, catching Rumplestiltskin's gaze as he gently shut the door to his hut. He had been watching her walk away – was he really that suspicious of her? Back home she considered herself to look like a very trustworthy person.

Putting on a brave face, Belle headed towards the inn, mentally repeating Rumplestiltskin's directions. She was grateful for the shoes they had leant her, regardless of how silly they looked with her dress. She would occasionally catch sight of people milling around outside their homes. Almost every woman that spotted her would look at her with disdain, their gazes moving up and down her form. Was her dress really that short?

Belle also noticed that there were no cars in this town, nor any bikes. She'd never seen an area like this before. How had she gotten here? She refused to believe that her silly wish upon a random star had brought her here; there had to be a more logical explanation.

When Belle discovered the inn, she felt an overwhelming sense of dread. She had no cash on her, and just based on the look of the village she began to fear they may not accept her Visa. But most inns and hotels only accepted credit cards, right? When she pushed the door open, she was surprised to be met with something more akin to a pub. Fortunately, it was so busy that no one spared a second glance at her in her apparently short dress and funny shoes.

She walked up to the bartender, uncertainly setting her purse down on the table.

"Excuse me, who do I talk to if I want a room?"

"Tha' would be me," the man said gruffly, setting down an empty beer mug as he surveyed her. "Rooms are upstairs, above the pub. Five pieces o' silver per night. 'ow many nights will yeh be stayin'?"

"Uh, two," Belle said uncertainly. He wanted pieces of silver? What the hell did that mean? She dug into her purse, shuffling through its contents before she nervously pulled out her Visa.

"If you put it on my Visa, I'm sure the bank will do the currency exchange. I'm not from here, so I don't have any of your currency…"

"Lass, why would yeh come to a foreign land and no' bring our currency? Are yeh from the forestlands then? Is that where they accept such silly monies?"

Belle didn't exactly know how to answer, but she had enough sense to put her Visa away. Forestlands?

"... Could you point me in the direction of a place to stay then?" she asked carefully. "A place that accepts Visa?"

The man shook his head, pointing to the door.

"If you ain't go' silver, you ain't go' a room. Please see yourself out."

Belle sighed, but she didn't see much of a choice. She left the pub, looking around and weighing her options. Where was she to go now? She didn't want to go back and disturb the father and his son. She didn't want to hide in the woods when there were ogres about.

Just as she was about to set foot in the direction of the barn she'd stayed in the night before, she felt a hand clamp tightly over her mouth and pull her into the alley.

* * *

**A/N: **So, what did you think of the first chapter? R&R for the next one! :)


	2. Fairytale Coincidences

When You Wish Upon a Star

Summary: Belle French is no longer happy in Storybrooke, wanting more than what life has to offer. One night, a wish upon a star brings her to a far-off land where there are ogres, werewolves and other beasts. Thankfully, she also happens upon a wool spinner and his son, but acquiring a certain dagger changes everything. (AU)

**A/N: **Hello everyone! I am absolutely thrilled with the response to the first chapter. Thanks for all the follows and fabulous reviews. I hope the second doesn't disappoint!

**TeamTHEFT: **Thank you! Glad to see you're excited about it - I want to see how it plays out myself. ;)

**Andi88**: Yes, that is a good point, haha. I think she always had a feeling it wouldn't work, but it was one of those "doesn't hurt to try" scenarios. At this point she doesn't have many options, but she'll pick things up quicker along the way! Thanks for the review and the critique! :)

**Stargate533**: Lovely to see you again, m'dear! I have been snooping through some peoples' profiles and I have added your fanfic on my "to read" list. :X Can't wait!

**MyraValhallah**: I hope I didn't make a typo in your username, haha. Thanks for the review, I'm glad you like the idea. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Once Upon a Time.

* * *

Chapter 2: Fairytale Coincidences

There weren't many things that Belle knew about in this strange land.

In her short time here, she had not familiarized herself with much. She had, however, discovered something that seemed to exist between worlds. There was a strong, distinct aroma that ensnared her senses. It was a sharp scent - something that was unmistakeable back in Storybrooke and here in this strange little town:

Alcohol.

Belle coughed into the hand that was covering her mouth, struggling against the strong arms that were pulling her into the alleyway. Her captor had been drinking heavily, and her mind kept flashing back to the knight at the river. Men trying to "have their way" with her had better not become a common occurrence; Belle wasn't entirely sure how normal it was to be saved by a young boy and his father in these parts.

And then, Belle snapped to her senses. Why should she need to be saved? Women did brave things in her books all the time! She stomped hard on her assailant's foot, elbowing him in the gut before turning quickly on her heel and slapping him hard across the face. Her intent had been to be quick and efficient, but her moves came out clumsily, not entirely practiced in the art of self-defense. It was nowhere near as easy as actors made it look in all those movies. Nonetheless, it seemed to do the trick, and the drunken man stumbled away from her. Belle created a large distance between them, this time being sure not to corner herself.

"Now, I'm not judging you for drinking while the sun is still up," she panted, holding an arm out to keep him from coming closer. "But I just want to let you know that I am not a prostitute, and I have no money for you to take. I have a book, a couple of plastic cards…"

The man seemed deliriously determined, his gaze intense. He could have been handsome, she supposed, if his face weren't blotched pink from the liquor, and if he'd washed his hair. It was only then that she realized he had a sword sheathed at his side, and dread washed over her. She may have fluked her way out of his grasp, but she wasn't sure how well she would hold up in a sword fight.

Eventually, however, the man bowed low, stumbling a bit as he did.

"I am Sir Gaston," he said, and Belle arched a brow. Belle and Gaston - how quaint.

"And _I_ don't give my name to potential kidnappers," she replied curtly. Gaston nodded, running a hand through his dark hair.

"That seems wise. I apologize, my lady, as I spotted you at the pub and I thought you were someone else. Someone I am looking for." Belle had a feeling that if she weren't so put off by his presence, she might have been impressed by how well he could speak under the influence of alcohol. He was slurring, but only slightly.

"Yes, well, you should have figured that out _before _pulling me into an alleyway," she retorted cheekily, and Gaston sighed.

"I should have. It's quite astonishing, though – you look very similar."

"Perhaps to a man who has been drinking away the hours of the afternoon," Belle said snidely. Gaston paused, standing up straighter as he looked her up and down. He didn't even seem to notice the bruises on her face; his gaze never made it up past her neckline.

"You're very beautiful, you know." Belle tensed, her eyes narrowing a bit as the alcohol finally seemed to affect his words. He'd mistaken her for someone else, dragged her into an alleyway, and now he was flirting with her?

"And you're very drunk," she replied, warily taking a step back as he moved closer to her, eyeing her like a piece of meat. Not _again._ She really should find different clothes if this was the kind of reaction she was getting. At least Gaston didn't seem as aggressive as the knight by the river.

"What's your name?" he asked, and Belle scoffed.

"You must be mad if you think I'm going to tell you." He kept moving towards her, and Belle was getting ready to slap him away when she felt her back hit the brick wall. Fortunately, the sounds of heavy steps interrupted the silence; someone had seen them loitering in the alley and had come to check on them.

"Is everything all right here?" the man asked, and Belle tried not to marvel at the fact that he was on horseback.

"Yes," Gaston answered, raising a hand so the man would acknowledge his presence. Belle watched as the rider bowed his head, the horse bowing slightly with him. Her lips parted slightly in shock. Was this louse really a nobleman? People bowed to him?

"I was just leaving," Gaston said. "Thank you for checking. Continue your patrol." He then walked up to Belle, bowing his head.

"I'm sure we'll cross paths again," he said, placing a kiss on Belle's hand. "Until then – use discretion with that strange currency of yours, hmm? Things like that will bring you unwanted attention around these parts." She made a face, wiping the back of her hand on her dress. His warning intrigued her, but she was glad to see him go.

"On your way," the man on the horse said, pulling her out of her thoughts and ushering her out of the alleyway. Before she even had time to think, she was walking through the village again, headed in the direction of the barn she had stayed in the night before. She went through the same motions – checking to see if anyone was inside, then crawling through the window and climbing the ladder. She sunk into the bed of hay, wondering what on earth her next step was. It figured: she finally got the chance to live her life like a character from a novel, she finally got the chance for adventure she had always wanted - and she had absolutely no idea what to do.

Belle knew she should check the cuts on her feet, but she didn't feel like tending to them just yet. Instead she decided to nap, hoping that she would be able to think more clearly after some rest. She closed her eyes for what felt like a minute, but when she opened them again, the barn was dark, and someone was standing above her.

* * *

Rumplestiltskin had felt strange ever since sending Belle to the inn unescorted. A long time ago, perhaps, he would have had the free time to walk a lady to her destination, but things were different now. He had priorities. With Milah gone, he had to put Bae first, no matter how pretty a young woman might be. So he cooked the boy some lunch and entertained his stories about what far off land the mysterious Belle had come from.

It had been an eventful day, to be sure, but he was looking forward to the next morning's regular routine. His mind had been somewhere else for several hours, haunted by blue eyes and worry that seemed to come so naturally to him. Had she made it all right? Was she on her way back to this Storybrooke she had mentioned?

When the sun set, Rumplestiltskin stopped spinning his wool and began to make dinner, different thoughts beginning to plague his mind. Baelfire was growing older every day, and Rumplestiltskin always failed to suppress the fear of how close his son was to being conscripted to the war. He remembered when Bae was younger; he would whine about how much work there was to do. Now that it was just the two of them, however, he worked hard, and Rumplestiltskin hadn't even heard a peep of a complaint. In the evening, it was Bae's job to bring the sheep back into the barn from the pasture; it usually took an hour at most, and then he would come back for dinner.

Except this time, Bae didn't return.

Uneasiness settled in his gut when the food grew cold, and Rumplestiltskin quickly put the fire out before limping to the nearby barn. It was their duty to tend to the sheep and harvest the wool, but by no mean was any of it theirs. The sheep and the barn all belonged to the Duke, and they were paid to take care of them and spin the wool.

He felt his heartbeat quicken when he saw the empty pasture. If the sheep were already in the barn, then where was his son?

"Bae?" he called, hoping to see some sort of movement from the pasture. When nothing stirred, he urged his lame leg forward and made the trek up the hill to the barn. As he drew closer, he could hear voices. Relief washed over him; Bae had probably gotten caught up playing with one of his friends again.

"I bring this book with me everywhere," someone said, but the voice was too old to be someone Bae's age.

"You can read?" came his son's response.

"Of course I can. Erm – where I come from, the schools always teach children how to read."

"I never learned," Bae replied. "We don't get taught here – but they always have a puppet show up at the market! They tell really good stories. My Papa, he's taught me a little bit, but I don't know everything yet."

Rumplestiltskin carefully peered around the open door, and what he saw stole his breath away.

Belle and Bae were sitting cross-legged, shoulder-to-shoulder on a large square bale of hay. What she was doing in the barn, he had no idea, but she was holding out a novel to his son like it was a picture book. Any stranger off the street might have assumed they were mother and son. It was an image he'd never been fortunate enough to see when Milah was around. Rumplestiltskin often wondered how he had grown up so gentle and considerate after losing his mother at such a young age.

"Is it hard to learn to read?" Bae asked, and Belle hummed.

"Maybe at first, but it's a fantastic skill to have. The second you pick up a book, you can visit far-off places, see daring sword fights, magic spells - princes in disguise! All without leaving the comfort of your own bedroom." The way Belle was talking, she may as well have been describing a real adventure as opposed to fiction. He could read enough to get him by, but he'd never taken pleasure in it.

Belle's eyes lit up at the very mention of literature, and Bae was watching her with fascination. The hand that was not holding her book waved theatrically through the air, and he wasn't entirely sure he'd ever seen someone put so much energy into talking before. Rumplestiltskin suddenly realized that in the past couple of days, he'd adapted a bad tendency to hide and watch this woman from a distance. To try and break the habit, he cleared his throat to make himself known.

"Papa!" Baelfire finally noticed him standing by the door, and the boy scrambled to his feet. He looked guilty; he'd probably forgotten the time. Rumplestiltskin watched as Belle got to her feet as well, stepping more gingerly. She was still wearing Milah's old slippers, and he could see a bit of dry blood around the edges. She probably needed to have her wounds looked after.

"I came to check on you, Bae. You know I worry when you don't come back for dinner." Rumplestiltskin walked into the barn then, nodding politely to Belle and offering her a kind smile.

"Hello, Miss Belle."

"Sorry, Papa," Baelfire said, "but I ran into Belle while I was bringing in the sheep. The inn wouldn't accept her and she needs a place to stay!"

Now, normally his overprotectiveness of his son would have prompted an immediate no to the unspoken question of a stranger staying at their house. However, the image of a gentle woman reading to his only child was still fresh in his mind. His parental instincts told him to be suspicious of the foreign woman who had taken an interest in Bae, but her face was so kind and so lovely it was clouding his judgment.

"Why wouldn't they let you stay at the inn?" he asked, and Belle paused, looking slightly uncomfortable as she considered her words.

"I did not anticipate such a long trip. I don't have any money left." He recognized her shame instantly – he'd experienced it far too much in his life. It was not something a person could easily fake. Chivalry took over, and he reached out to the apparently poor beauty, encouraged by the fact that his son was so taken with her.

"We don't have much either," he said finally. "But we can share what we do." He knew, deep down, that inviting a stranger to stay with them was most likely a bad idea, but the big hug Bae gave him in thanks was all he needed to ease his worries.

"It will just be until I can find my way back home," she assured him. "Until then, I can make myself useful. I can work-"

"I have no money to offer you," Rumplestiltskin interrupted hastily, and Belle shook her head.

"No – I can work in exchange for you letting me stay here. I'm a decent cook, and I can clean. I can be a caretaker of sorts. It would, at the very least, give you time to do other things in the day rather than care for your home."

Rumplestiltskin couldn't remember the last time he hadn't needed to cook a meal or tidy up after a long day at work. He couldn't remember the time he had another person to help pick up the slack. After a moment, he smiled and gestured back towards the house.

"Won't you join us for supper, Miss Belle?"

* * *

The following weeks were, by far, the most interesting and most stressful of her life.

Belle was grateful for Rumplestiltskin's hospitality, but getting used to their lifestyle proved to be more difficult than she imagined. There were neither microwaves nor electric stoves; there were no swiffers or antiseptic wipes. Everything took so much longer to do, but at the very least it helped the days go by.

Belle had to get used to bathing rather than showering, which in itself took over an hour. She had to heat the water over the fire, pour it into a jug, then empty the water into the basin in the corner of the room. There were soft, clean leaves instead of toilet paper, and while she may have been a decent cook in Storybrooke, without a stove she ended up improvising most of their meals over the fire. When she asked Bae about cooking appliances, he said they couldn't afford a stove or an oven, so at least she knew they existed.

She had yet to see Gaston again, but she wasn't all that surprised. He had been dressed much more elegantly than the townspeople here, and he was either a part of the royal guard or he came from a different kingdom entirely. Belle was left to borrow clothes, which proved to be very awkward at first. The only clothes that would come close to fitting her were Milah's; Rumplestiltskin spoke very little of his deceased wife, mentioning only her name and that she had been taken away too soon from Bae. The woman had been quite a bit taller than Belle, so her skirts dragged through the dirt, the corsets unable to lace up tightly enough.

When Rumplestiltskin had first laid his eyes on Belle in Milah's old dress, he'd looked at her strangely. She was almost certain that wearing a dead woman's clothing was entirely inappropriate, but it was the only option she had. It drew much less attention than the dress she arrived in, and they couldn't afford to get her anything of her own just yet. Still – it must bother Rumplestiltskin to see some stranger walking around in his ex-wife's dresses. Belle told him she did not want him to feel like she was replacing Milah, and he told her not to be silly; there was nothing to worry about. She sensed he was just being kind so she would not feel strange in her clothes, but let it go.

She heeded Gaston's warning, keeping much of Storybrooke to herself and twisting the truth when Bae asked what her town was like. She had yet to figure out how she was going to find her way back there when she was too afraid to even talk about it. She just focused on one thing at a time, and right then she was focusing on learning to survive day-to-day in her new surroundings.

"These are wonderberries," Rumplestiltskin said as they limped through the forest. "They'll be the ones you should use for that jam you want make." Baelfire was off in a different part of the forest playing with his friends, so Rumplestiltskin took advantage of the free time to teach her about the forest berries. They always had porridge, stew, rice… That morning Belle had told them she wanted to mix it up a bit and make them something different for dinner. She wanted to make some variation of bread pudding with the leftover bread they had from the market. It would turn out to be more like soft bread with sweet jam baked overtop, but alas! She had to work with what she was given.

"Why, what's wrong with the other berries?" she asked, and Rumplestiltskin shrugged.

"Nothing really; the wonderberry is simply a popular berry. Sweet, with a bit of tartness to it. Oh – avoid those red ones, they're poisonous…"

Belle wasn't entirely sure how long she had been staying with them; it was somewhere between two weeks and a month. The entire duration of her stay, Rumplestiltskin was on his best behaviour. He was polite, he was courteous, he was… uptight. Belle smiled, wondering what exactly made him so nervous around her. When he talked to her, he may as well have been treading on thin ice with how carefully he picked his words.

Baelfire laughed with her, played with her, treated her like family. Her relationship with the boy grew. Rumplestiltskin treated her more like an a antique doll, afraid of breaking or upsetting her. She wasn't sure she knew him any better than the first day they had met.

But if Belle was going to be stuck in this world, she was going to make the best of it.

Her bruises were gone and the cuts on her feet had healed, so Belle was able to move quickly again. While Rumplestiltskin was walking through the bushes, she grabbed onto a thick branch and swung herself up onto a nearby tree. She had spent much of her childhood in treetops reading books and escaping reality, so climbing trees was something she knew how to do.

Belle watched as Rumplestiltskin paused, turning around when he realized she was no longer responding to his monotonous berry lecture. She saw worry crease his features, spinning this way and that as he tried to spot her.

"Belle? Belle – where are you?"

He walked towards her tree, looking around himself but never up. She grinned, tucking her skirts firmly beneath her knees before letting her body fall. Her legs caught her, the branch supporting her as she hung upside down in front of Rumplestiltskin.

"Hi!"

She laughed as he gasped; he jumped a bit backwards in surprise. She popped something in her mouth before offering him another, swaying slightly back and forth.

"Wonderberry?"

"You almost gave me a heart attack," he said, placing a hand over his heart for dramatic effect.

"Luckily for you I know CPR," Belle said, but Rumplestiltskin made a face.

"You know what?" Her expression faltered a bit and she carefully hopped down from the tree.

"Nevermind." As they continued walking, Rumplestiltskin reverted back into his usual nervous self, and Belle sighed.

"I'm not going to bite, you know," she said, and he blinked.

"I know that," he said lamely.

"Then why do I make you so nervous?"

"What? Don't be silly. You don't make me nervous."

"Oh, really?" Belle knew he was lying. She made him extremely nervous, and she had no idea why. He always gave her such a large birth, and he always looked embarrassed when she caught him staring.

"Of course not," he said unconvincingly, and Belle took a step closer to him, trying to prove her point.

"Not at all?"

"No," he answered, again unconvincingly, as he took a step back.

"Well," Belle said, continuing to walk towards him as he backed away. "That's a relief. I was beginning to think you didn't like me." He continued to move away from her until his back hit a tree. He said nothing, and Belle brought her face mere inches from his. She looked him directly in the eye, challenging him. He was going to give up immediately, looking anywhere except her, but then-

"What are you two doing?"

Belle jumped back farther than Rumplestiltskin had when she'd surprised him from the tree. Her cheeks immediately flushed like a guilty child's.

"Bae," Rumplestiltskin said a little breathlessly, limping over to his son. "Done with your friends already?"

"Yeah," he said, holding up a crinkled piece of paper. "I was playing with Morraine, and she said she and her parents are going to King Leopold's ball."

"You've been invited to a ball?" Belle asked, peering over Rumplestiltskin's shoulder at the flyer. He shrugged.

"Technically, I suppose we have been – King Leopold hosts one ball a year where everyone in the kingdom is invited, regardless of status or wealth. It was Queen Eva's idea – she implemented it on their tenth wedding anniversary, which she wanted to celebrate with the kingdom. We don't usually go-"

"I thought we could go this year," Baelfire interrupted, sending his father a meaningful glance. "Belle might be able to find someone there who knows how to get her home. Perhaps someone knows magic, or maybe a fairy will help-"

Belle coughed on her own breath.

"Magic?" she repeated incredulously. "Fairies?"

"Yes," Baelfire answered innocently, cocking his head slightly to the side. "Why not? They'll be able to help you more than anyone in this town." Belle paused then, looking between the two of them as her mind whirled. First she met a man named Rumplestiltskin, then a man named Gaston, and now there was talk of magic and fairies? This was too much – this couldn't all be a coincidence.

"I don't suppose these fairies grant wishes?" she asked carefully.

"Oh, sure," Baelfire said with a smile. "Fairies, genies, stars – they can all grant wishes if you wish hard enough."

"And," Rumplestiltskin added gently, "If you truly need and deserve it. You can't just wish upon a star and become rich. You have to work to earn."

_But apparently I can wish upon a star and end up here,_ Belle thought wryly, keeping it to herself. She could tell the words were meant more for the boy anyway. Baelfire nodded with a slight roll of the eyes, understanding the lesson his father was trying to push on him.

"Have you ever met a fairy, Belle?" Baelfire asked.

Belle felt something heavy drop in her stomach when she saw the serious expressions on their faces. They weren't kidding – these things weren't just fictional fairy tales to them, they were _real._ But then, did that mean..? She glanced at Rumplestiltskin, looking as ordinary as could be with a walking stick and a shawl over his shoulders. He didn't look like the impish creature her books back home had told her about. Things were getting strange, but Gaston's warning was echoing in the back of her mind: _Use discretion._ Could he really be the Gaston from-?

_No,_ she told herself. _Pace yourself. Don't say anything. You have no proof of anything yet. No good can come of people thinking you're crazy._

So Belle cleared her throat, patting Baelfire on the shoulder.

"No, I haven't. I may be poor but I'm content, so why need fairies?" she said, swallowing her anxiety. "Well, then – let's collect some Wonderberries, hmm? I'll make you a sweet dessert after dinner, and, with your father's permission, we can talk about this ball later."

* * *

Rumplestiltskin wondered if the other lands were really that different. Belle, after all, was from another land, and she seemed so intrigued by how they did everything. Her eyes were almost always wide with curiosity, wanting to learn something new each day, never satisfied with plain routine. He could tell she was not used to labour, because she was always exhausted after doing a day's worth of laundry bent over the washboard. After she cleaned she would take a nap, the exertions of scrubbing the floors robbing her of her energy. Despite all of this, she managed to greet them with a genuine smile and a gentle embrace when they returned for supper. She even told Baelfire a bedtime story every night, no matter how fatigued she was. Sometimes it would be an excerpt from her novel, and sometimes it would be off the top of her head. When it was from her novel, she made him read along with her, sounding out the vowels. In a matter of weeks he was already reading simple phrases.

Tonight, however, Belle had been acting strange ever since coming home from the forest. She had cooked them dinner, she'd told Baelfire his story - she even made something delicious called a "bread pudding". She did all of these things, however, with a smile on her face that did not reach her eyes. Baelfire may not have noticed, but Rumplestiltskin certainly did. He had been watching her enough over the past few weeks to realize when something was troubling her usually positive spirits.

After clearing the dishes, Belle declared she was going out to relax by the river. Baelfire wanted to join her but Rumplestiltskin told him it was too late to go out, sensing the woman needed some time alone. It wasn't until Baelfire had fallen fast asleep that he locked the door to his home and left to find his new caretaker. It wasn't hard to locate her – she was exactly where she said she would be, laying on the grass by the water with one of their lamps at her side. The flame was flickering, close to dying, but she barely noticed, gazing up at the sky. He wasn't entirely sure what she was looking at – it had been cloudy all day.

"You should come back to the house," Rumplestiltskin said quietly, trying not to startle her. "There's better light in there, and it's warmer."

"I know," Belle said. "But I like being out here. Back home, I could never see the stars this well."

Rumplestiltskin carefully lowered himself to sit on the grass, unable to help but point out the obvious.

"It's cloudy tonight." He moved his staff to the side, glancing at Belle once he was settled in. Her dark locks spread beneath her head like a halo. He was about to ask her if she was cold, but she took his hand and guided him to lay down beside her. He glanced around to make sure no one was there first, but soon enough his back was on the grass and he was looking up at the sky.

"Look closer – there." She pointed to a small clearing in the clouds where the stars were shining brightly through. "Don't you think they're beautiful?"

"Hmm?" He didn't quite register the question, still gauging whether or not he was comfortable lying next to a woman he was not married to. At least from here he couldn't see her legs.

"The stars," she said, pointing at them. "I've never seen them so bright."

"Oh." Rumplestiltskin furrowed his brow. "They've been brighter – it's supposed to rain tonight."

"Yes, but _really_ look," Belle urged, tilting her head so it was resting against his. He felt his heart skip a beat, but focused his gaze to follow her gestures. She was drawing a picture, using the stars between the clouds to connect the dots.

"That right there… back at home we call it the Big Dipper. And there! Orion's belt. I could almost never see them at home because of light pollution."

Rumplestiltskin looked at her now with a baffled expression, struggling to suppress a laugh at how strange she sounded.

"What?"

"Well – I mean – I'm not _entirely_ certain those are the same constellations," Belle stammered, self-conscious from his reaction. "But they _look_ the same, only brighter. Back at home, certain stars make pictures, and each picture tells a story." She placed a hand on his arm now, and the contact quickly silenced his chortles. His gaze followed her finger again, drawing pictures in the sky.

"You're very lucky," Belle said quietly. "You live somewhere very beautiful."

"I do," he said. "But I don't often get the time to notice it. We work hard in this village; I think its beauty is often taken for granted."

"People take their homes for granted everywhere you go," Belle agreed. "But there will always be people to appreciate it – travelers, like me." Rumplestiltskin looked at her then. Her face glowed even in the dim moonlight, her eyes bright as they reflected the stars. How could one person be so beautiful?

Belle must have felt him staring at her, because she turned her head to look at him too. She looked curious, her gaze boring right into his. The idea of kissing her flashed through his mind, but it was just enough of an image to horrify him and make him sit up again. What was he thinking? He barely knew the woman! Rumplestiltskin cleared his throat nervously. Curse his lonely heart; it was playing tricks on him. He simply hadn't had a female companion – a wife – in a long time, and his mind liked to wander.

"Has something been bothering you tonight?" he asked, distracting himself. Belle laced her fingers together over her chest, remaining on the grass.

"I was thinking of home today. I took mine for granted too. I wanted to be anywhere but there, and all of a sudden… here I am." She gestured all around them, at the trees and the stars.

"You must miss it," he said. Belle, at first, didn't say anything, her eyes still locked on the stars. But after a few minutes, she hummed in thought.

"I think I'll miss this place more. I've learned so much in such a short amount of time."

Rumplestiltskin felt Belle shiver, and without really thinking, he unravelled the shawl from around his neck and placed it over her shoulders. She grasped at the edges for warmth, smiling appreciatively.

"Thank you. Hey – Can I ask you something?"

"I suppose," Rumplestiltskin said noncommittally, settling himself back onto the grass.

"Why don't you usually go to the King and Queen's ball?" He glanced at her then, taking in the gentle curiosity, knowing she wouldn't pry if he didn't wish to tell. Lying here beside her though, he felt safe – like she wouldn't judge him.

"We never really have. Milah shares the same birthday as their anniversary. The journey to the castle is quite long, and it was often more worth it to stay and celebrate at home. Anyhow, I preferred being at home with my wife rather than in a castle I didn't belong in."

"And now that it's just you and Bae?" Belle asked. Rumplestiltskin shrugged, still unwilling to share that he hadn't actually seen Milah die. She had been taken by a pirate, and to him, that meant she was as good as dead.

"We spend the day honouring Milah rather than participating in the festivities." He had never gotten any closure on the entire event, and he'd kept her clothes on rare chance that she somehow returned. Now that Belle was around, he was starting to move on, throwing out or selling things that he had kept before, like Milah's modest jewellery.

"But – perhaps – we could attend the ball this year," he said tentatively. "If it will help you find your way home. Bae's right, someone might know how to get there." He watched as the kind smile on her face grew. She wasn't going to push him towards it – she wanted an event like that to be his decision.

"You must miss her," Belle said, referring to Milah as she echoed his words from before. He answered without thinking.

"I regret that Bae will grow up without a mother."

What the Seer said all those years ago still haunted him. Leave his child fatherless… What did she know? He would never let that happen. Bae was already motherless – he wasn't about to leave him as an orphan!

Before he could take a dip into a downward spiral, a cold raindrop pricked the tip of his nose. He shuddered at the unpleasant sensation, looking up at the clouds. It was beginning to rain now. It started light, giving them a head start, but he could tell from the darkness of the clouds that the rain would become heavy soon.

Belle squealed as the size of the droplets grew; she quickly sat up and helped him get to his feet.

"Hurry!" she exclaimed, and he couldn't help but laugh.

"So Miss Belle will sleep with the sheep, climb trees, pick berries, but is afraid of a little rain?" His tone was smug as he followed behind her, his staff sinking into the mud.

"In case you've already forgotten, tomorrow is laundry day, so these happen to be the only clean clothes we have until the our clean laundry dries tomorrow afternoon!" Belle used the shawl to cover her hair, laughing when she noticed his displeased reaction. The rain got even heavier, the winds picking up around them.

"Blast this bum leg," he cursed, not looking forward to spending the night in damp clothes. Belle laughed, linking her sopping wet arm with his.

"This could be fun, you know," she said, and his eyes widened.

"You must be joking."

"No! This is the type of stuff you only see in mov- books," she said, stumbling over her words. "I've always wanted to get caught in the rain!"

"You're rather odd, you know that?" he said to her, and Belle laughed.

"I've been told that a lot."

In reality, it was probably only fifteen minutes to the hut, but in the rain it had felt like hours. His clothes were dripping when he finally made it inside, as were Belle's. Her skirts were dirtied from the mud, her wet hair plastered to her forehead and her cheeks.

Walking over to their basin, he wrung out his clothes as much as he could, sneaking a glance at the sleeping Bae in the corner.

"Great," he muttered. "Now what? We'll catch a cold sleeping like this."

"Just wear your clothes from yesterday," Belle said, reaching into the pale that held their laundry. She handed him a dry shirt and pair of pants. They smelled a bit of the barn, but he preferred it to the soaked mess he was wearing now.

He snuck behind a partition and changed, and he could hear Belle scuffling about doing the same. When he came back out, Belle already had the tea prepared, kettle in her hands. He had to choke back a gasp when he saw what she was wearing.

"Is that – is that _my _shirt?"

"Well I'm not going to sleep in a corset, am I?" she said as though it were perfectly normal for an unwed woman to be wearing his shirt. It was long and baggy, and went well past her knees, but he still found it very difficult to keep his eyes on her face.

"What do you normally sleep in?" he asked, but at the look Belle sent him, he decided it was better not knowing.

"Tea?" she said instead, and he nodded uncomfortably, tensing as she took a seat beside him at the fireplace. She handed him a cup, the hot water immediately warming his cold hands. They were sitting shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee. If he hadn't felt her small body shivering against his, he would have moved away. He grabbed a blanket from a nearby cupboard and draped it over both of their shoulders, trying to warm up by the fire.

"You still like the rain?" he asked her wryly, and she smiled, closing her eyes as she rested her head against his shoulder.

"As much as the stars." He sipped at his tea, his movements slow and careful so he would not make her uncomfortable as she rested against him. His thumbs toyed with the rim of his teacup as he contemplated asking her something that he had been wondering for weeks now. Quietly, he asked, "Why did you decide to come to _this_ village?"

He thought she was taking some time to consider her words, but when he looked down, her eyes were still closed, her chest rising and falling with deep, silent breaths. She looked so peaceful that it put him at ease, making his own eyelids feel heavy. He leaned against the wall a little more for comfort, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to keep the blanket from falling.

For the first time in years, Rumplestiltskin fell asleep with the comfort of a woman at his side.

* * *

**A/N**: There you have it! The second chapter. :D Leave a review and let me know what you think!


	3. The Lost Lady

When You Wish Upon a Star

Summary: Belle French is no longer happy in Storybrooke, wanting more than what life has to offer. One night, a wish upon a star brings her to a far-off land where there are ogres, werewolves and other beasts. Thankfully, she also happens upon a wool spinner and his son, but acquiring a certain dagger changes everything. (AU)

**A/N: **All right, another great response! A certain special character makes a cameo in this chapter at the ball, hehe. I hope you enjoy it! I also added a cover to this fic - I've never done that before! Blended some things together in photoshop, and voila! What do you guys think?

I'm also aware that the time gap between Rumple and most of the main characters meeting is some odd 200 years; for the purpose of this fic, the gap won't be nearly as large. There may be some minor tweaks in the timeline through the story, but I'll avoid it as much as I can and try to keep everything in proper order! :)

**TeamTHEFT: **Glad you like it! I can definitely relate, I've had too many moments where I laugh out loud while reading. From all the weird stares, you'd think people had never read before! ;)

**Eyes Like Dawn: **Wow! Hello, thanks for the review! I knew I recognized your username; The Heart Won't Lie was one of the first fanfics I read for this pairing. Fantastic work, I'm flattered you find mine interesting. :)

**Stargate533: **Isn't he though? He's so sassy in the show it's kind of fun to write of him before all of that, but don't worry, we'll get that sassy Rumple back soon here.

**MyraValhallah: **Thanks for the review! Hope you enjoy this chapter just as much.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Once Upon a Time or Shrek the Musical.

* * *

Chapter 3: The Lost Lady

"Sir Maurice."

Gaston dropped gracefully to one knee, bowing his head in respect. He only stood once the ruler of Avonlea jovially told him to rise.

"Gaston," Maurice chortled, "You know there's no need for such formalities – what can I do for you this fine evening?" Gaston walked up to where Maurice was sitting at his grand table, pouring over a large map. He had marked all of the Ogre War's front lines; different coloured inks indicated where the stations relocated to each fortnight. He was currently using a magnifying glass to make sure each stroke of his quill was precise.

"You told me to notify you should the status of our search change at all." It was, most likely, the only thing that could have stolen the man's attention from his map. Maurice looked up at him, his eyes wide.

"Yes," he said carefully. "I did." He gestured to the chair across from him, and Gaston took his seat.

"Has the status changed?" Maurice asked.

"Not exactly. I was traveling, Sir, when I happened upon a small pub. There was a woman there, and she looked remarkably like the Lost Lady."

"Was it her?" he asked, and Gaston grimly shook his head.

"She was much too young, and too small. The Lost Lady was tall, was she not?"

"Indeed, she was. Almost six feet, if I recall. She truly was beautiful." Maurice smiled as he recalled a distant memory.

"Well, the woman I came across, while beautiful, was not much taller than five feet," Gaston explained. "After all these years, she couldn't be that young. I was certain it wasn't her."

He watched as Maurice's face went through a myriad of expressions: intrigue, disappointment, confusion, and finally, curiosity.

"How old was this woman?"

"Two decades, perhaps, nearing three," Gaston answered. "That's almost as long as we've been searching for the Lost Lady."

Maurice's expression hardened now, and his fist banged firmly on the table.

"Bring her to me."

* * *

First, there was warmth. Then, there was comfort. Everything was dark and peaceful. Belle had entered that blissful world between sleep and consciousness, where she was aware of nothing but how content she was at that very moment. The last time she remembered feeling this warm was when she had been a child, when her mother cuddled her after a frightening nightmare.

This time, she couldn't recall a nightmare that led to this particular scenario. Actually, she couldn't recall the last time she had seen her mother at all. Belle furrowed her brow as reality started to prod her awake. Why couldn't she remember the last time she saw her mother? A wave of anxiety washed over her, and she squeezed her eyelids tightly shut. It wasn't until a few moments later that it all came flooding back to her.

_That's right, _she thought. _I'm not in Storybrooke anymore._ The last thing she could remember was…

Belle's eyes snapped open, and she became very aware of how hard the floor was beneath her side. The ceiling seemed higher than normal. Her bones were slightly stiff from not sleeping on a mattress, but at the very least, she was warm.

The whisper of a quiet breath drew her attention, and the movement resulted in her head moving up, then down. Belle's gaze slowly focused on a chest that was not her own, then trailed upwards. She found herself looking into the slumbering face of Rumplestiltskin; it seemed she had been using him as a pillow. Her head was resting on his arm as it draped around her waist to hold her close.

The blanket, by some miracle, was still stretched out over both of them, and it was probably the only reason they had stayed warm throughout the night. He smelled of rain and grass, and she couldn't help but smile as she remembered the previous night's events. How come he couldn't be this comfortable with her when he was conscious?

She glanced up to where she knew Baelfire's bed was, and was surprised to see him laying there awake. He was watching her, and when he caught her eye, he smiled. She smiled back, slowly raising a finger to her lips and urging him to keep quiet. He nodded, and, very carefully, Belle edged away from Rumplestiltskin's arm. She placed his hand on top of his own chest and tucked the blanket around him so he would stay warm. She succeeding in not waking him, and once she was on her feet, she waved Bae over. The boy obediently followed her into their small kitchen area.

"What are you doing?" he whispered as she pulled out various ingredients from their cupboards. Belle winked at Baelfire.

"Surprising your Papa. Have you ever had pancakes?"

"No."

"All right – why don't you help me out? Stay quiet – we don't want to wake him up until it's ready."

The culinary adventure that ensued was one that Belle was not likely to forget. There were so many giggles and gasps between herself and Baelfire that she was surprised Rumplestiltskin hadn't woken up. She let the boy whisk the mixture together while she set up the cast iron skillet up over the fireplace. It wasn't long before their small house smelled like slightly burnt pancakes and berries. In the absence of syrup, Belle used her Wonderberry sauce from the bread pudding to sweeten the breakfast.

When the first batch was done, she encouraged Baelfire to decorate the pancakes with berries. She joined him when she finished cooking, making a simple star on hers.

"Should we wake him?" he whispered when they finished, and Belle shook her head.

"Wait – let me pour the tea first." She grabbed a tray and some dishes from the cupboard. She set everything up nicely, using a fork to transfer the pancake Baelfire had made for his dad onto the plate. She had just grabbed the teapot from the counter when she heard Baelfire draw in a sharp intake of breath.

_Crack!_

Somewhere between grabbing the teapot and actually pouring the tea, Belle's elbow had made contact with the cup on the tray, succeeding in knocking it over. She winced as she appraised the damage, quickly getting on her knees to pick it up.

"Hm? What? What's going on?" Rumplestiltskin stammered as he sat up, finally roused from his slumber. He made an unpleasant face as he registered all the sore bones in his body. He rubbed the back of his neck, a few moments passing by before his gaze finally rested on the broken cup in Belle's hands.

"Belle did it!" Baelfire chimed immediately, and her jaw dropped as she shot a feigned glare at the little mischief-maker. He sent her a cheeky grin. Belle looked back to Rumplestiltskin, who didn't say anything, and apparently was awaiting some form of explanation.

"I'm uh – I'm so sorry, but uh," she stuttered, "It's… it's chipped." Still, he said nothing, and her heart began to race, afraid she had upset him somehow.

"Y-you can hardly see it!" she tried, holding it up to him so he could see how small the chip was. Rumplestiltskin blinked and waved a hand dismissively, slowly getting to his feet.

"It's just a cup. What are you both doing, wreaking havoc on my house?"

"_Our_ house," Baelfire corrected, holding up the tray Belle had prepared before proceeding to break his dishes. "Look – we made you something!"

In Belle's opinion, being able to see the astonished look on Rumplestiltskin's face made sleeping on the floor entirely worth it. His lips parted and his eyes watered just a bit as he reached out to accept the tray.

"_Papa_," Rumplestiltskin recited, reading the berries that Baelfire had arranged on the pancakes.

"Isn't that cool, Papa?" he said with a proud grin. "Belle taught me how to spell that one!"

"Cool?" Rumplestiltskin repeated, confused, as he looked down at his son. Baelfire lowered his head bashfully.

"Belle taught me that word, too. I used it right, right?" he asked Belle, and she nodded discreetly from behind Rumplestiltskin.

"She seems to be teaching you a lot," Rumplestiltskin said, placing a kiss on his forehead. "Thank you, son." He glanced at Belle as he gave the boy a hug, nodding at her over his shoulder.

"Thank you."

Belle smiled before setting the broken teacup on the counter.

"Well. Shall we eat then?"

"Certainly," he said, and the three of them took a seat at the small, round table. Belle watched as the father and son stared at their pancakes, both of them picking up their forks before looking up at her.

"So," Rumplestiltskin said as politely as he could, "What exactly are these?"

Belle explained how to eat the pancakes. She helped them spread the berry sauce over their breakfast, which proved to be just as sticky as syrup. They seemed to enjoy it nonetheless, Baelfire especially. She'd learned that the boy had a very big sweet tooth. Once the plates were empty and their stomachs full, she helped Baelfire properly wash his hands before starting on the dishes.

She was grateful that the boy didn't mention seeing them together in the morning. Lord knew Rumplestiltskin was uncomfortable enough around her; she didn't want to imagine how he would react if he ever realized they had been cuddling by the fire. Once he was clean, Baelfire went out to play with some of the neighbouring children, promising to be home by lunch. She waved a soapy hand in farewell before returning to her task.

"Belle," said Rumplestiltskin. "Would you join me for a moment?"

"Sure – just give me a second," Belle answered, quickly scrubbing a plate. Once everything was neatly in the drying tray, she walked over to where he was standing by the closet.

"I've been thinking about this ball," Rumplestiltskin said. "And I do think it would be a good idea to attend. It could be our best shot at finding someone that knows how to get you back to Storybrooke. With the event being only a fortnight away, that doesn't exactly give us a lot of time to scrounge up the money for new attire. However, I think we have enough here to make it work. Nothing extravagant of course, but I just wanted to know if you were interested in going."

"Of course I am," Belle answered politely. "I didn't want to push it in case you were more comfortable staying here, honouring Milah." Rumplestiltskin nodded, browsing through various articles of clothing in the closet.

"I may be set in my ways, but Baelfire shouldn't spend his life grieving over the loss of his mother. This ball would be good for him… and, I suppose, for me as well." Belle remained patient as he slowly made his point, keeping that kind smile on her face.

"Now, I have an old suit that I could wear, and Baelfire should still fit into his as well. Based on how Milah's clothes have fit you so far, I highly doubt her gown would be appropriate for you for the ball. This morning at breakfast I remembered that I have something that just might fit… aha!" He pulled out a beautiful floor length dress from the closet. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of it; she could already tell it would fit her.

"Rumple," she said breathlessly. "Where did you get this?"

"It was my mother's," he said, holding it out to her. "I know it's silly that I kept it, but I don't like throwing things away, especially if they mean something to me. She was small, like yourself, and I think she'd prefer this dress be used and not left gathering dust in a closet. She told me she met my father in this dress."

"Are you sure it's okay if I wear it?" Belle asked, her eyes wide. Rumplestiltskin nodded, passing it over to her. She accepted it carefully, her fingertips stroking the soft fabric.

"You've been too kind to me this entire time," she said, looking up at him. "I don't know how I could ever repay you."

"There's no need," he said, smiling a bit nervously. "The only thing I care about in this world is Baelfire. I want him to be happy; I want him to grow up to be the best he can be. I was afraid losing Milah would be a blow we would never recover from. Then you came along, and you started teaching him how to read, how to cook, how to take joy from the simple things... Suddenly the future doesn't seem so frightening."

She watched as he looked down into his lap. He was expressing his gratitude, but something was troubling him. She placed a hand on his shoulder, hoping the contact would encourage him to continue.

"His birthday is soon," he said quietly. "Just a few days after the ball. After that, he'll only have one year left until he is conscripted to the Ogre Wars."

"The Ogre Wars?" Belle repeated, but his expression immediately became guarded.

"A tale for another time," he said, and she knew not to pry. "Why don't you try the dress on, make sure it fits?"

"Of course," she said, placing her hand over his and giving it a squeeze. She dared to kiss him on the cheek, her stomach doing a small backflip when she saw him turn pink.

"Thank you, Rumplestiltskin."

* * *

"Papa!"

Rumplestiltskin jumped when Baelfire's voice shot through the room, snapping him out of his thoughts. He had just finished getting ready, and was staring at his reflection in the mirror. It had taken him almost an hour to press all the wrinkles out of his old suit, and he wanted to make sure he hadn't missed any.

"Yes, Bae, what is it?" he asked, trying to shake off his nerves. Belle had insisted on getting ready in the barn to give them both space in the house, but she had been gone for quite a while now and the carriage was set to arrive any minute.

"Here," he said, handing Rumplestiltskin a single rose. The thorns had already been removed, and the site of it made him furrow his brow.

"What's this?"

"A rose, Papa. To give to Belle before we go to the castle!" Rumplestiltskin glanced out the window. It was dark, and no business in their right mind would still be open during the frenzy of the King and Queen's ball.

"Where did you get this?" The mischievous look on Baelfire's face was enough of an answer. Rumplestiltskin's eyes widened.

"Bae – did you take this from Mrs. Gallow's garden?" he asked in a hushed tone as though the round housewife could hear them through the walls of their own home. The boy smirked.

"She won't notice _one _missing," he said.

"You give this back right now-" Rumplestiltskin hissed, holding the rose out to Baelfire and trying to get him to take it. The boy just backed away as the door swung open, and suddenly he found himself in the very awkward position of holding a long stemmed, de-thorned rose to a very beautiful Belle. He could see Bae grinning out of the corner of his eye.

"Rumple," Belle said, her blue eyes widening. "It's beautiful."

He watched as she took the rose from his hand, bringing the petals to her nose as she inhaled the flower's modest scent. She looked astonishing, standing there in her blue floor-length dress. It was a halter, a thin collar wrapping around her slender neck. There was a tempting diamond shape showing off the skin of her collarbone, and again he found himself struggling to keep his eyes on her face.

Her chocolate locks were up in a bun, a few tendrils left hanging down to frame her face. She reached behind her head and inserted the rose in her hair, the burst of red a strong contrast against her dark curls. He realized he must have been staring for longer than what was deemed appropriate, because Bae suddenly cleared his throat.

"I think I hear the carriage outside. Are you both ready to go?"

The carriage ride was as long as he had expected it to be, if not longer. He would have nodded off if he weren't acutely aware of Belle's close proximity. They were seated beside each other, shoulder-to-shoulder, while Bae sat across from them. He could feel his son's eyes on him, and while he thought it was sweet the boy felt the need to play matchmaker, he was not going to humour him. Belle was lovely, but… well, she was a new experience that would soon be a fleeting memory. She had no doubt that she would forget about them the moment she found her way back to Storybrooke. He didn't want either of them growing too attached when they both knew she would be leaving them some day.

"What's the ball like?" Belle eventually asked, turning her gaze away from the window in favour of looking between him and Bae. Both Bae and him made eye contact, shrugging and frowning in sync.

"We've never been," Rumplestiltskin said. "We've heard stories, but this is our first time too."

"I guess we'll find out," she said with a smile, looking back out the window. Bae subtly kicked Rumplestiltskin's good shin, nodding towards Belle when he shot him a glare.

"So," Rumplestiltskin tried lamely, "Are you excited about the thought of meeting someone that might help you find your way home?" Even though the question was technically directed at Belle, it was also his subtle way of reminding Baelfire that she was not available for wooing due to her plans to leave them behind. He caught onto the message and sent his father a look of dismay in response.

"I'm nervous," Belle said, looking back at him. "I don't really know what to expect."

"Any idea how you're going to find somebody?" Bae asked, and to Rumplestiltskin's surprise, she nodded.

"My mother said she gets the juiciest gossip just by sitting and listening to conversations at the bar- er, pub. I'll still enjoy my time at the ball, but I'll be listening intently all night for anything that might help."

"I'll listen too," Baelfire offered helpfully. They fell into silence again, which made the remainder of the trip feel even longer. It felt like a miracle that they had made it to the castle at all, and when the carriage slowed to a stop, Rumplestiltskin stood.

"Are you ready?" he asked, opening the door for them. Belle nodded, stepping out of the carriage after Baelfire. She walked between the two of them towards the large castle, and again he saw her eyes go wide as she took in the sights. He tried not to look at too much, as he found he got jealous easily. He should not bother wishing for things he would never have.

He was surprised to see King Leopold and Queen Eva standing at the grand entrance, greeting their guests as they poured into the ballroom. When it was their turn, he bowed low, and Baelfire mimicked the gesture. He saw Belle hesitate, taking a few seconds before offering a curtsy so poorly executed it was worthy of a servant; perhaps the way they acknowledged royalty was also foreign to her.

His breath hitched in his throat when Queen Eva took Belle's hand gently in her own, stopping her mid-curtsy.

"Welcome, child – I feel as though we've met before."

Rumplestiltskin glanced at Belle then, looking her up and down. Did she know royalty? The thought of her _being _royalty suddenly crossed his mind, and it made him feel a little sick. It would explain why she didn't understand how they did things, and why she wasn't used to labour. Had she been playing them for a fool this entire time? He quickly dismissed the thought – she'd never given him any reason to accuse her of lying.

"I don't think so," Belle replied kindly, and at Rumplestiltskin's pointed look, she added, "Your Majesty."

"Intriguing. You look so familiar."

"Come now, Eva, let's not keep them from the free food and good company inside!" King Leopold said heartily, surveying all three of them now. He could barely believe that the rulers of his land were actually making conversation with Belle – with _them._

"Yes, my apologies dear," she said, releasing Belle's hand. "You go on inside. We hope you have a wonderful time."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Belle replied, walking into the castle now.

"Happy Anniversary," Baelfire said as he walked in, and King Leopold laughed, patting Rumplestiltskin's very own son on the back.

"Thank you, lad! Thank you."

The ballroom was so glorious it took all of their breaths away. There must have been thousands of people attending the event, all of them mingling and chatting. Most people were on the dance floor, though a good portion of people were off to the side enjoying refreshments.

"Baelfire!" Rumplestiltskin looked down to the little girl that had run up to them, dressed to the nines in a small poofy dress, her long blonde hair tied up. She curtsied, and he had to purse his lips to keep himself from laughing when Baelfire bowed back to her.

"Good evening, Morraine."

"You want to get some punch?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Bae," Rumplestiltskin called before he left. "We're leaving at eleven, all right? No later. We'll meet at the doors."

"Got it. See you later," he said, waving before running off with his friend. Belle smiled.

"She's adorable," she said, and he rubbed the back of his neck.

"She is; she's very kind to Bae as well. But I guess that means it's just you and-"

"Belle!"

Rumplestiltskin furrowed his brow in confusion when a foreign voice called out Belle's name. He watched as a nobleman approached them, bowing low to Belle and barely acknowledging him.

"Oh," Belle said, sounding less than thrilled. "Gaston. You're here too."

The total cost of his outfit that night probably surpassed everything that Rumplestiltskin had in his savings. He looked at the man with displeasure, but it didn't quite matter because Gaston wasn't even paying him any attention.

"I thought you weren't from here – I thought you didn't know anyone," Rumplestiltskin whispered to her, and Belle nodded.

"I don't," she whispered back. "Gaston ran into me after the inn rejected me. It's complicated."

"Would you care to dance?" he asked. Belle glanced at Rumplestiltskin, and he couldn't quite read her expression. After a moment, he took a step back, his hands grasping his walking staff more firmly than necessary.

"I'll meet up with you later," he said. He saw something like disappointment flash across Belle's face, but he wasn't entirely certain because the second he'd spoken, Gaston pulled her onto the dance floor. With no one to keep him company now, Rumplestiltskin walked towards the refreshment table, accepting a glass of champagne a server offered him. He drank it a tad quicker than what was socially acceptable, his eyes remaining on Belle and that Gaston fellow as they spun about the dance floor.

After a moment, he realized that Belle was tripping over her own feet, and the sight of the beauty out of her element made him snort a little into his drink. Perhaps he should have taught her standard ballroom steps before attending. He'd just naturally assumed a woman as elegant as Belle could dance. He'd gone through two glasses of champagne before someone other than a servant acknowledged him.

"Hello," said a gentle voice, and Rumplestiltskin found himself looking into the eyes of a young brunette, her lips painted a bright red. Her garments were drab like his, and he felt a little more at ease with a person of equal status to interact with.

"Hello," he greeted politely.

"Is it your first time too?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Nerve wracking, isn't it?" she said, looking out over the crowd. "My father made me come. I told him it would be boring, but he didn't believe me. He always acts as though he's richer than he actually is." She reached a hand out, and he accepted it, giving it a gentle shake.

"I'm Cora," she said pleasantly. He nodded.

"Rumplestiltskin. Pleased to meet you."

"Pleasure's all mine," she said. "Would you like to dance?"

"As long as you don't mind a man with a third leg," he said, holding out his walking staff so she knew he had a lame leg. It didn't even phase her; she linked her arm with his and walked with him to the dance floor. He glanced back to where Belle was still dancing with Gaston. Her back was to him, so he couldn't catch her expression.

When he looked towards the stage where the band was playing, he saw King Leopold and Queen Eva. They were finally inside their ballroom; all of their guests must have finally finished arriving.

"Thank you for joining us this evening," King Leopold said into the microphone. "As you all know, we are celebrating another happy year of marriage. I'll never know how I ended up with the fairest woman in all the land, especially given my unfortunate looks!" The joke earned laughs from the crowd.

"However, I do know that I was beyond fortunate to meet Queen Eva, let alone marry her. This one's for you, love."

The slow music began and Cora sighed.

"Some people get all the luck."

"Too true," he agreed a little bitterly.

"_It's a big, bright beautiful world with happiness all around.  
It's peaches and cream if our dream comes true._"

Rumplestiltskin danced as the King sang, swaying this way and that. He made sure to never put too much weight on his lame leg, performing the choreography in time to the slow beat.

"You're a good dancer for a man with a third leg," Cora said with a smile, and he chuckled.

"Perhaps the extra limb is an advantage."

"_It's a big, bright beautiful world with possibilities everywhere.  
If true love is blind, maybe you won't mind the view."_

Despite the fact that he was dancing with someone else, his gaze kept drifting back to Belle as she danced with Gaston, the lyrics striking a little too close to home.

"_I know I'm not the handsome prince for whom you've waited.  
I don't have a fancy castle and I'm not sophisticated.  
A princess and a beast, I admit, is complicated."_

Rumplestiltskin felt a little sick as he saw Belle link her arm with Gaston's, the both of them leaving the dance floor and heading towards the gardens.

"_You've never read a book like this, but fairy tales should really be updated…"_

"Are you all right?" Rumplestiltskin hastily redirected his attention to Cora then, nodding.

"Yes – Sorry." The woman didn't seem to mind too much, so Rumplestiltskin tried to maintain his focus. When the King finished his song, everyone stopped their dancing to clap, but he felt someone pull harshly on the edge of his vest. He stumbled a bit, finding himself looking down at Baelfire.

"What are you doing?" he hissed.

"Oh," Cora said. "Who's this?" Rumplestiltskin felt like he was standing between a rock and a hard place, with Cora on one side and Baelfire on the other.

"Cora - this is my son," he stammered. "Baelfire."

"Your son," Cora repeated, caught off guard.

"Yes. Do you have a child?" he asked her, and after a moment, the woman shook her head.

"No. But some day. Soon, hopefully."

"I'm sure," Rumplestiltskin said, breaking away from her when Baelfire pulled on him again. "If you'll excuse me-?" Whether or not Cora was annoyed with his abrupt exit, he would never find out, because Baelfire was practically dragging him through the crowd. He limped heavily, not able to get a good enough grip on his staff at the speed his son was walking.

"Bae," he whispered harshly. "Where are you going?"

"Belle is outside with a strange man, did you know that?" he asked, and Rumplestiltskin nodded.

"Yes, well, perhaps he will be able to help her. That is why we came here, isn't it?"

"He's not helping," Baelfire insisted, avoiding Rumplestiltskin's question. He led him to the doors, shaking his head.

"There are plenty of beautiful women at this ball, that lady included," Baelfire said. "But Papa, Belle is beautiful on the _inside_ too."

"She's leaving," Rumplestiltskin reminded Baelfire. "She is not your mother."

"Mother's gone," Baelfire retorted, and the bluntness of his words made him stumble a bit. "And if Belle's going to leave no matter what, then what are you doing wasting your time? Morraine and I will be leaving soon for the Ogre Wars soon too, and do you think we're wasting our time? Be brave for once, Papa." Rumplestiltskin felt a little sick hearing his own son telling him to be brave; his own son finally mentioning his inevitable fate with the Ogre Wars. Baelfire grasped his arms, giving him a little shake.

"Go," he urged. "We're already here, at a ball in the King's castle. All you need to do is rescue the damsel in distress. So what are you waiting for?"

Baelfire's words rang true, but Rumplestiltskin still felt rather strange listening to the advice of his thirteen year-old son. He wasn't entirely sure why he was walking towards the gardens. All he knew was that he wanted to see Belle and figure out why she had followed the strange man into the garden. He didn't trust him. He glanced back to where Baelfire was standing, waving his arms in the air and silently pushing him to continue.

Rumplestiltskin reached the gardens, looking around before choosing a particular path and hoping it was the right one. After a few minutes he could hear Belle's voice and he followed it, trying to listen for anything out of the ordinary.

"I hoped you would be here," Gaston said.

"Why?"

"To apologize for what happened at the inn. I am more careful about my alcohol intake now."

"How wonderful for you," she replied sarcastically. Rumplestiltskin took a wrong turn, silently cursing. He could hear them, knowing they were somewhere behind these blasted hedges, but he couldn't see them. He heard the jingling of coins interrupt their conversation.

"Please, accept these as a token of my apology."

"You must be insane," Belle replied. "I don't want your money."

"Then give it to someone who deserves it," Gaston said. "Just let me apologize. Please."

Silence followed, and Rumplestiltskin imagined that Belle was biting her lip as she contemplated accepting his peace offering. He wasn't sure if she did, but after a while, she spoke again.

"Did you ever find that woman you were looking for?" she asked, and Rumplestiltskin finally found their location. Once again he was hiding out of sight. This time, however, it was so he did not interrupt them. He was staying out of their way to be polite, really.

"The Lost Lady?" Gaston asked casually. "Oh, no. That search has been going on for decades. We've given up hope of ever finding her."

"Who is the Lost Lady?" There was a rustling of paper now.

"This is her. She looks just like you." Gaston was once again met with silence; the tale of the Lost Lady was infamous in this kingdom. What did Belle have to do with the Lost Lady?

"Who's looking for her?" Belle finally asked.

"Her husband, Sir Maurice. He cared for her very much and just wants to know that she is safe, but... well. Too much time has passed. If you'll excuse me, Belle, there are some things in the castle that I should attend to."

Rumplestiltskin waited until Gaston's footsteps faded into the distance before he made himself known, tentatively clearing his throat. Belle was sitting on a bench in a gazebo, gazing at the page the nobleman had given her.

"Belle?"

"Rumple," Belle said in surprise, and to his displeasure, she hid the page behind her back.

"I got worried when I saw you leave," he admitted, eyeing her suspiciously. "Are you all right?"

Belle placed her hand over his, a gentle expression on her face.

"Not quite, but... perhaps that's a tale for another time?" she asked hopefully, echoing his words from before. He was burning with curiosity, but decided to show her the same respect she'd shown him. He didn't pry.

"Of course," he said, holding an arm out now. "Would you care to dance, Belle?" She linked her arm with his and smiled, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"I'd love to." He walked with her through the gardens, watching her more than the sights. Normally she would be so taken with such beautiful surroundings, but he could tell her conversation with Gaston was troubling her. She did not want to talk about it, at least not right then, so he tried to bring her out of her stupor.

"You look lovely, by the way," he said quietly. "The blue looks good on you." She gave his arm a squeeze.

"Thank you. You look wonderful yourself. Suits, well, suit you." He smiled a bit at the compliment, leading her onto the dance floor once they reached the castle.

"Sorry," he said in advance, gesturing to his staff. Belle shook her head.

"I'm an awful dancer," she said. "Even with a bad leg, I'm sure you can outdance me."

"I'd like to think I was a good dancer once," he said wistfully, and Belle laughed.

"Are you going to teach me, then?"

"Perhaps." He took the lead, and he saw her glance at their feet a few times. Generally, she seemed to get the steps right though, and he hummed.

"You seem like a fine dancer to me," he said.

"You're certainly leading better than Gaston did," Belle laughed, and he was pleased by the compliment. After a while, he couldn't help but ask her another question.

"Why did you come to our village?" Belle looked up at him, licking her lips as she thought.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "But I stayed because of you and Baelfire."

Rumplestiltskin felt like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. She looked so bashful, as though she were embarrassed by how open she was being. Wasn't it him who was usually the embarrassed one?

"Bae has really taken a shine to you," he said quietly. "I can't even recall him spending as much time with Milah."

"He's a wonderful boy," she said. He ceased the intensity of his moves for a moment to take a step closer, deciding to be upfront.

"I fear how he will take the news when you leave." But of course, this really meant, _I fear how _I_ will take the news when you leave._

"Leave?" Belle looked up at him then, stepping a bit closer so they could whisper and not have others listen in on their conversation.

"You are searching for your way back home," he said, his grip on her tightening a bit as though he were afraid she would leave that very second. "And when you leave, you will be yet another person that has left us."

"Rumple, you know that I would never just _leave-_"

"Don't," Rumplestiltskin interrupted fiercely. "Don't say that you won't leave. Don't say that you might come back – not unless you mean it, because if you break that boy's heart, I will never forgive you. Just as I would never forgive myself for taking you in without thinking of Bae first."

Belle reached up a hand to stop him from speaking, trailing her fingertips lightly along his jaw. She made eye contact with him, resting her forehead against his. The image of kissing her flashed through his mind again, only this time it didn't horrify him. He saw her lean in; he saw her eyelashes flutter before she closed her eyes. He knew that she was going to leave; he knew that it all had something to do with the Lost Lady. Despite knowing that she was not a stable figure in his life, he leaned in too, as though the knowledge was fuelling him to use what little time he had with her wisely.

Their lips met in a kiss, and he raised a hand to cup her cheek. His senses slammed into overdrive, suddenly craving the female contact that he'd sorely lacked for years now. He'd been so lonely, caring for nothing and no one else but his son. But she was here now; he could taste something sweet on her mouth, smell the rose in her hair and feel the softness of her skin beneath his fingertips. He'd wanted her for himself ever since he'd first laid eyes on her, and right now, he had her.

For a moment – just a moment – nothing else mattered.

* * *

**A/N:** I know song lyrics in fanfics aren't that popular, but the excerpt was short and I thought the lyrics were so applicable! That was "Big, Bright Beautiful World (Reprise)" from Shrek the Musical if you want to check it out on youtube or something. :) I hope you enjoyed this chapter, drop me a review and let me know what you think!


	4. The Duke's Dagger

When You Wish Upon a Star

Summary: Belle French is no longer happy in Storybrooke, wanting more than what life has to offer. One night, a wish upon a star brings her to a far-off land where there are ogres, werewolves and other beasts. Thankfully, she also happens upon a wool spinner and his son, but acquiring a certain dagger changes everything. (AU)

**A/N: **Did you read the title of this chapter? Yep. Things are about to change! What? Surely you didn't think the fluff would last forever? Ohoho. ;) Please note this chapter follows the episode, Desperate Souls, but of course is still AU.

This just in, I've heard OUAT ratings for season 2 are low! Tune in live tonight if you can!

**TeamTHEFT:** I love your enthusiasm, seriously. What a motivator! Your reviews always bring a smile to my face. :)

**Burtonized:** I'm glad you like it! I look forward to hearing your opinions of future chapters.

**Andi88: **I hope this was soon enough. I love hearing when people are addicted to my fanfic. It's a great compliment, thank you.

**MyraValhallah: **Thank you! I'm glad you find it interesting.

**DruidKitty: **I will! I always do what I can to complete my stories. Glad you're enjoying it!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Once Upon a Time.

* * *

Chapter 4: The Duke's Dagger

Adults could be so blind sometimes.

How could they not see it? It was so obvious to him, and he was only thirteen. Papa and Belle were true loves! True loves, just like in all the stories Belle read to him at night. He was a boy, so he knew he was supposed to favour tales of adventure and battle, but he secretly liked the idea of each person having a true love – of one day finding his own.

Baelfire spun Morraine in and out, blissfully unaware of how clumsy their choreography was compared to those around them.

"How's it going with your Papa?" she asked, and he sighed. Morraine had noticed Belle lingering around their house a while back, so he'd confided in her.

"I don't know. I just pushed him out into the garden. I hope he did the right thing for once and went to her."

"She really is pretty," said Morraine. "But don't you wish your Papa was with your mother?"

"Never. She left," Baelfire said stubbornly, and he saw the confusion register on her face. He twirled her, behind the music by a couple of beats.

"But my mother told me she passed away."

"That's what Papa tells people," he agreed. "But I saw her one night at the pub, before it all happened. She was with someone else. She left with him, I know it."

"Does your Papa know that you know?" Morraine asked, and Baelfire shook his head.

"No, it's easier this way. I love him, but he can be so daft sometimes. Right now, all I want is for him to realize that he's supposed to be with Belle." Dancing wasn't so bad, he decided. He didn't know why so many of his friends had such an aversion to dancing.

Suddenly, Morraine began to giggle out of nowhere. She actually had to stop dancing, clutching her sides.

"What?" he asked, releasing her hand. "You're acting strange."

"I think he finally figured it out," she tittered, pointing them out in the crowd. Baelfire turned, his eyes frantically surveying the crowd. Eventually he spotted them, the only two people standing still on the dance floor. He didn't think he'd ever seen his father so close to a woman before. He broke out into a broad grin, finally understanding why Morraine was laughing. He joined in, clutching his stomach with a joyful laugh. He knew he had been rooting for his Papa, but actually _seeing_ him kiss Belle was something else entirely. Did it always look that silly when adults kissed?

"You go, Papa," he said quietly to himself, grinning widely before taking Morraine's hand in his and spinning her again.

* * *

Sir Maurice was on his feet the second Gaston walked through the doors. The man bowed before approaching him, and Maurice impatiently waved his hand.

"Don't worry about bowing," he said for the umpteenth time. "Did you bring her?"

"I gave her the flyer," Gaston said. "But I have not brought her." Maurice felt his temper flare, balling his large fingers into a fist.

"I gave you very specific instructions to bring her to me."

"She will come on her own," Gaston said. "Worry not, Sir Maurice, I mentioned your name, and I could tell she recognized the Lost Lady's portrait. She will come. She will want answers."

"Are you sure?" Sir Maurice asked, his eyes widening a bit.

"It will take patience, but she will come. She is too curious not to. If she is who you say she is – if she knows the well-being of the Lost Lady, you do know what that means, don't you?" It took a few seconds, but eventually realization dawned on the ruler's expression.

"Your reward. But I don't have-"

"I know you have lost much in these wars," Gaston said, holding up a hand. "I know that what little you have left is being used to try and stop them. This is my territory as well, and I would never ask that you bankrupt our land for my pleasure."

Sir Maurice should have felt relieved by the fact that Gaston was not going after his riches. However, he knew Gaston to be rather dim-witted. Seeing him so haughty right then was unsettling.

"Then what do you want?" he asked, and Gaston leaned forward over the table.

"The girl."

* * *

The carriage ride back to the house felt longer than the trip to the castle. Rumplestiltskin felt Baelfire's eyes on him once again, and he pretended not to notice. The boy's gaze was relentless, but Rumplestiltskin was quite the expert at avoiding eye contact. Belle eventually fell asleep before either of them, resting her head on his shoulder. He wasn't sure how late after midnight it was when they finally returned, but Baelfire pushed his way out of the carriage first.

"Nice lipstick, Papa," he teased, and Rumplestiltskin couldn't help but laugh, fighting the blush that rose to his cheeks.

"Go to bed, you little scamp," he replied affectionately. Baelfire obeyed, running into their small home with a quiet cackle. In one of Belle's stories, he would have scooped her up into his arms and carried her over the threshold. His bad leg throbbed though, worn from the night of dancing. With a regretful sigh, he brought his hand to her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

"Belle," he said gently, his next words sparking a strange warmth in his chest. "We're home." Her eyes were heavy-lidded as she looked up at him.

"Was I dreaming?" she murmured sleepily, and he smiled.

"I hope not." Now away from Baelfire's prying eyes, Rumplestiltskin leaned down and gave Belle another kiss. It was tentative, as he was still in disbelief about everything that had happened that night. His heart skipped a beat when she kissed him back, humming pleasantly against his lips.

"Good," she said, her accent always pleasing to his ear. When she parted from the kiss, she stretched a bit before leaving the carriage. He followed her out, catching her hand when she headed towards the barn. He wasn't entirely sure why he'd done it; he just didn't want to leave her yet.

"W- would you perhaps want to sleep with us tonight?" he asked timidly, gesturing towards the house. "I know my bed isn't much better than the one in the barn, but it's large enough for two. I'm sure Bae would love to see your face in the morning." He watched as Belle's expression became mischievous, her lip pulled up in a smirk.

"Oh, _Baelfire_ would love to see me in the morning?" she asked cheekily, and he sighed, pulling her closer.

"Perhaps I would as well," he admitted abashedly, and she kissed him again.

"Well when you put it that way, how can a girl say no?" she teased. Rumplestiltskin snorted, gently leading her towards the house.

"Just get inside, you don't have to be so witty all the time."

The next couple of days, Rumplestiltskin was the happiest he had ever been. He was smiling all the time, which in itself was foreign to him. He and Belle would share small kisses and embraces when Bae wasn't looking, the two of them quietly preparing for his fourteenth birthday. Rumplestiltskin was determined to make it his best one yet, using a small portion of his savings towards the cost. The rest of it was covered by the coins Belle had received from Gaston as an apology. It was going to be a surprise party; Belle was doing up the invitations that very moment. Rumplestiltskin knew most of Baelfire's friends, so he was able to provide her with a list of invitees without asking his son.

He wasn't entirely clear on where he stood with Belle; he knew he cared for her, and he'd fallen in love with the kindness she showed to Bae. But she was leaving, and while he wanted to do as Bae said and make the most of their time, he was afraid of falling in too deep. While Belle burned the edges of parchment to make the invitations look like a royal scroll, he was by the fire spinning wool. Baelfire was off at Morraine's fourteenth birthday bash, the girl only three days older than him. Rumplestiltskin stole a glance at Belle; her eyes were narrowed as she made sure she burned the edges of the invitations just right. He couldn't help but smile, as he'd never seen anyone else put in so much effort to make his son happy. He stood from his wheel, walking over to her and putting his hands over hers, lowering the parchment to the table. He leaned forward slightly as he kissed her, and his stomach jumped as her arms wrapped around his neck.

Belle stood then to match his height, and she backed towards the bed they had just begun to share. His intentions had been completely honourable at first, meaning only to sleep next to her, but with her guiding him now, he found his self-control waning. Things were moving really fast, but he wasn't entirely sure that he was opposed to it. Her hands moved slowly so as not to startle him, running down his chest and just barely lifting his shirt, enough to feel the skin beneath. He inhaled sharply at her touch, tensing a bit as he held her wrists, stopping her.

"I don't trust myself," he said, and she shook her head.

"But I trust you." She kissed him once more, guiding him to move over her on the bed. His heart began to race.

"Are you sure?" he asked breathlessly, breaking away again. He wasn't sure if he wanted her to answer yes or no, because both had rather terrifying results. Belle nodded, using her gentle touch to keep him calm. He looked at her then, brown eyes to blue, and saw nothing but pure trust in her expression. She had so much faith in him, it made his heart heavy with pride. In that moment, he knew where he stood with Belle. He knew he'd already fallen in too deep.

"Belle," he whispered, gently caressing her cheek. "I lo-"

Baelfire's terrified cry from outside suddenly jolted him out of his infatuated stupor.

"Papa! Papa! They've come for Morraine!"

Rumplestiltskin was out of bed in a second, just before Baelfire ran in. Belle stood with him, but he held out an arm, silently urging her to stay back. She nodded and he left the hut, his heart wrenching and his head pounding when he heard the agonized cries of his neighbours.

"No, _please!_"

"No! Don't take her! No, you can't take her, she's my baby, don't take my baby!" Rumplestiltskin felt the cold fear run through him, and he held Baelfire close.

"Nonsense. She's a fine, strong girl," said the knight. "She'll make a fine soldier."

"This is a mistake," the father told him, and though he didn't say anything, Rumplestiltskin agreed. "She's turning fourteen, only _fourteen!_" Morraine should have another year left.

"It's by the order of the Duke! The Ogre Wars have taken their toll this season. More troops will turn the tide."

"They've lowered the age again, Papa," Baelfire realized, and Rumplestiltskin felt sick. That meant his son, his only child, his only _family_, was going to be taken from him in just a few days time. He barely noticed as they took the girl up onto the knight's horse, immediately thinking of at least fifty different plans to try and get Baelfire away from this place.

The only thing that caught his attention was when Morraine's mother brandished a knife.

He instinctively moved back, any weapon enough reason to make coward to want to flee. He kept his arm around Baelfire; no matter how cowardly he was, he would never let any harm befall his son. But then, terror overcame him when he saw the strange forcefield render the parents useless, and suddenly he was trembling. Dark magic. They had magic on their side. As the knight left, Baelfire turned to face him, steadying him, his eyes wide with fright that broke his heart.

"My birthday's in three days. They'll come for me in three days!"

"We'll find a way," Rumplestiltskin said, making what he feared was an empty promise. "We'll find a way." He looked back at the hut, and he could see Belle's worried face through the window. Turning to Baelfire now, he ran a hand through his hair, memorizing the feel and the look of his son.

"I need you to go. Find your friends. Stay with them, comfort each other for just a little while. I need to talk to Belle."

"But Papa-"

"Please, son. Don't worry. I'll keep you safe. The knights are gone now; just be home by supper." Baelfire hesitated, but after a moment, he nodded and ran off to tell his friends what happened to Morraine. Only when he was out of sight did Rumplestiltskin return to the hut. Belle was so frightened she was tearing up, and he found himself shaking as he pulled her into his arms. She was the only thing that could calm him down. How had their perfect day turned into _this? _He clung to her without saying anything, shaking a bit as tears of his own rolled down his cheek. He wasn't going to lose his son. He wouldn't allow it. His cowardice had cost him his wife, but nothing would cost him his son.

"What's happening, Rumple?" Belle finally asked, and he drew in a shaky breath. He took her hands and guided her to sit beside him on the bed.

"I have to tell you something."

He hadn't spoken a word about it since it happened fourteen years ago. He stuttered plenty, and he took long pauses to gather his thoughts. Only Belle's comforting touch could allow him to keep going. He told her the story of how he had been proud, once, to go to war. How he imagined it would make him a hero not only to his town but to his wife. He told her about the Seer – about how his biggest fear was that she was right and that Baelfire was going to end up fatherless.

Belle didn't seem to understand, once again blocked by the barrier between her world and his. They didn't have Seers where she came from, she explained. He didn't ask her to understand, though; he just wanted her to listen.

"I injured myself to get out of the war," he said, gesturing to his leg. "I wanted to survive. I was branded a coward, but I had to do it. I needed to be able to take care of my family. I _cannot_ leave Bae fatherless. I _will _not lose my child to the Ogres in a pointless war. He doesn't know that I ran, and I ask that you not tell him."

Belle nodded, placing a hand over his.

"You're not a coward," she told him, and he looked up at her. He truly wanted to believe her, but he couldn't. He ran from the war, and now he was going to teach his son to do the same. It was for his own good though, wasn't it? He watched as she reached out to her jacket, her hand trembling just a bit as she pulled out the page she had hidden from him at the ball.

"Do you know who the Lost Lady is?" she asked, taking her turn to speak. Rumplestiltskin nodded slowly.

"Could you tell me her tale?" Belle asked. Rumplestiltskin hesitated, remembering hers and Gaston's conversation at the ball. They had been talking about her. Belle waited patiently, and after a moment, he nodded.

"There's this town – Avonlea. It's practically nothing now, but it used to be a wonderful place to live. Thriving, lots of culture… all thanks to the new rulers who restored it, Sir Maurice and Lady Rose. The King was thrilled – he even offered Sir Maurice a place in his royal court to advise on the restoration of other towns. Rumours are that the Duke didn't like how close they were growing, so he began to manipulate Maurice. Maurice suddenly started making poor choices, following the Duke's counsel instead of Lady Rose's. Ultimately, the manipulation led to the grave mistake that started the Ogre Wars, and everyone suspects that Avonlea will fall again."

"Sir Maurice started the Ogre Wars?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"Unintentionally, yes. Lady Rose grew fed up with it all, and she ran, though the royals tried to make it look like she was taken at first. It was like she just… disappeared; fell off the face of the earth. Thus, she was referred to as the Lost Lady." Rumplestiltskin couldn't help but voice his curiosity, glancing at the piece of paper Belle was hiding in her hands.

"Why do you ask?"

She unfolded the page, which turned out to be a very old flyer; one that he recognized from years ago when they'd first started the hunt for the Lost Lady. It read "Missing Person" along the bottom, with an incredibly accurate drawing of the woman's face, physical descriptions of her features in small print.

"Gaston said I looked like her," she said, showing him the picture. "It was why he confronted me at the inn. He thought I was her." Rumplestiltskin held up the portrait beside her face, comparing the two.

"The resemblance is striking," he admitted.

"It should be," she said, sighing. "That's my mother. I would recognize her anywhere." Rumplestiltskin twitched a bit, torn between bowing to royalty or demanding why she hadn't told them who she really was.

"I didn't know," Belle said, seeing the look on his face. "I had no idea she was from this place. She worked as a waitress and when I was old enough, I became a librarian. It's strange. I always grew up wanting more than that provincial life. I never knew I came from a place like this – I didn't even know her name was Rose. She always called herself Mirabelle."

So the Lost Lady had run to Storybrooke. But Belle still had family here in this world, and he decided to use that to his advantage.

"We have been helping each other for quite some time now," Rumplestiltskin said carefully. "Our home has been, for lack of a better word, your sanctuary. But Bae and I must leave tonight, before the sun rises again. We'll take the King's Road and walk as far as our legs will take us, but we can't stay here." He looked at her then, to see if she was following, and Belle slowly nodded.

"I can't allow the knights to take my son. It's not enough for us to find a place to hide, I have to find a way to keep the knights from coming back to harm us. Even if I run, they will hunt us down and take him from me if I don't find a way to stop them. A life of hiding is not the life I want to give Bae." His hard expression softened somewhat when he looked at her, brushing the hair out of her face.

"These past couple of days... it's been a long time since I've felt this happy, and it's all because of you." He swallowed his heartache, preparing himself for a flurry of questions. What he was getting at was that he did not want Belle to come with them, not on a journey so dangerous. He loved her, but that was why she could not come with them.

"I am forever grateful for all the smiles I've seen on Bae's face since you arrived. That's why I'm leaving the house to you. If we make it, we won't have to use it anymore. You can stay here; you can stay sheltered and nourished until you're ready to meet your father, or go back to Storybrooke, whatever it is you wish to do. You'll be safe here."

Belle finally caught on, and she shook her head.

"You aren't leaving me behind. I'm coming with you."

"Belle," he said, and she shook her head again. He wasn't in any mood to argue about it. She said she trusted him - couldn't she see that he was trying to keep bad things from happening to her?

"You can say my name as much as you like. You can lay down all the logical reasons before me as to why you don't want me there. No matter what you say, I am coming with you. I can find Sir Maurice after-"

"It isn't safe," he muttered, his patience growing short. Why didn't she understand?

"And you will _not_ leave me to worry about yours and that boy's safety," Belle said sharply, but he snapped.

"He is not your son!" Rumplestiltskin yelled, making Belle jump. He stood from the bed and gestured aggressively to himself.

"He is _my _son. He is _mine_ to protect! You've talked and you've told tales about finding your way back home, but you are still here! Go back to your own family, Belle! Let me protect mine!"

The regret hit him immediately, but hurting her was the only way he could think of to get her to leave. The grief on Belle's face made him want to wind back the clock, but for once, he stayed strong. The very possibility that in the next few hours, he could fail at protecting Baelfire killed him. He couldn't bear to fail at keeping both Baelfire and Belle safe. She was smart – he was confident that if she left, she could make it on her own. If she wasn't with them, they couldn't bring her any danger. She could reunite with her family in peace. Even if that meant she would never see or trust him ever again.

He watched as Belle stood up, and he trembled slightly in fear of what she would do next. Would she strike him, would she scream? She walked right up to him, her expressive blue eyes failing to hide her pain.

"You may not want me here," she said, struggling to keep her emotions from overwhelming her. "But you know that Bae does. And it will be you, Rumplestiltskin, that has to explain why yet another woman who loves your son has left and is never coming back."

Belle stormed out of the house, and Rumplestiltskin collapsed onto his bed, her biting words draining him of the little energy he had left. Eventually, Baelfire returned, laying beside him when he realized his Papa was in bed before the sun had even set, his face stained with tears. He asked what happened, and of course, where Belle was. He had no energy to answer so he remained silent, holding his son close to him while he could. Bae was all he had left, and he had to protect him.

They left that night. They fled down the King's Road, hoping they wouldn't be caught at such a late hour. Baelfire was confused but co-operative, jogging to keep up with his father's long strides. For a man with a cane, he could certainly move fast when he wanted to.

"It feels wrong to run," he said. "What if Belle doesn't know where we're going?"

"I told her. She knows we're leaving," Rumplestiltskin muttered, gaze focused on the road ahead.

"Then where is she?"

"She's not coming." His words came out curt, and he sighed. Rumplestiltskin never meant to be short with his son, but he was going through a lot. He had to keep his boy safe, and he had yet to tell him what had happened between him and Belle. Baelfire wasn't as sensitive as he'd hoped; he stared at his father like he was insane.

"What? Not coming? Why not? Papa-"

"Alms for the poor?" Rumplestiltskin stifled a yelp of surprise; a beggar had appeared out of nowhere, startling him past wit's end. Heart racing, Rumplestiltskin gave him change, and the beggar bowed.

"Oh, thank you, thank you…" As they continued walking, he could feel Baelfire looking at him, waiting for an explanation. Belle wasn't there and he wanted to know why.

"Bae, what happened between Belle and me – it's complicated."

"Wait," Baelfire said, stopping dead in his tracks. "Do you hear that?"

"Horse's hooves," Rumplestiltskin gasped a moment later, turning to Baelfire. "Go – in the ditch, hide!" The cavalry approached them quickly though, too fast for them to outrun. Rumplestiltskin quickly lied to a knight about their reason for being on the King's Road, positively shaking as they began to make fun of him and his lame leg. They were laughing at him.

"Hobblefoot!" the knight exclaimed, and Baelfire was suddenly standing in front of him, defending his honour.

"His name is Rumplestiltskin!" Dread washed over him, and he quickly pulled his son back.

"Hush, boy." It was too late though, the knight already knew who he was. He was famous in the worst possible way.

"Rumple… Ah. The man who ran." He sent Rumplestiltskin a meaningful glance. "Is this your boy? How old is he?" He turned to Baelfire now.

"What's your name?"

"I'm Baelfire and I'm thirteen!" Rumplestiltskin began to fret now, tugging on Baelfire's arm.

"When's your birthday?" the man asked.

"In two days' time!"

"Shush, Bae!" Rumplestiltskin scolded, stepping in front of him once more. The knight did not even look a little bit intimidated. He smirked at him, taking pleasure in their little encounter.

"Did you teach him how to run as well, Rumplestiltskin?"

"Watch your tone," came a threatening voice from behind. He and Bae turned; it seemed the cavalry hadn't noticed the third person either, several heads turning to stare at her.

"Belle!" Baelfire exclaimed happily. Even Rumplestiltskin's emotions betrayed him, feeling a sudden joy at the sight of her again. She hadn't left forever – she'd been here waiting, knowing he was going to take Baelfire down this path. The knight stepped into the light of the torch, and Rumplestiltskin swallowed his fear when he realized who it was.

_Run, Belle. Run!_

"You're the girl from the river." His eyes widened as he surveyed the three of them now, his gaze steadying on Baelfire. "I remember you now. You're the one who threw rocks."

"She's my mother-" the boy lied, and the knight reached out a hand to strike him for speaking out of turn. Rumplestiltskin cried out, but Belle ran in front of them, stopping the large hand immediately with a grunt.

"Don't be so cowardly as to strike a child," she said bitterly.

"This _woman _isn't your mother," the knight spat, pushing her away. He pointed at Baelfire now.

"Did he tell you? Did he tell you how he ran and the ogres turned the tide of the battle, and all the others were killed? He returned home to a wife who could not bare the sight of him - she died, did she not?"

"Please!" Rumplestiltskin begged, feeling humiliated in front of both Belle and his son. "Please, stop."

"Perhaps you should get your story straight then," the knight laughed, the others behind him joining in. "Who is she, really? Perhaps a live-in prostitute that you cannot afford?"

Belle swiftly pulled down her hood and stepped into the light.

"I am Belle, the daughter of Sir Maurice and Lady Rose – though you all know her as the Lost Lady." The man's eyes widened with intrigue, and a sickening smile twisted his lips. Rumplestiltskin stepped forward then, pushing aside their fight from earlier for fear of her safety.

_Leave, Belle. What are you doing?_

"Leave them be," she said, gesturing to Rumplestiltskin and Baelfire behind her. "Leave them and take me to Avonlea."

"And why would we do that?" The knight asked with a grin. "The reward is for the missing Lost Lady, not for yourself."

"Belle," Rumplestiltskin whispered, trying to pull her back by the elbow. She recoiled from his touch.

"I demand it!" she exclaimed to the knight. "Or do you want to find out what the Duke would do to you if he discovered you found Sir Maurice's only child and let her get away?"

The threat of the war-loving Duke's merciless actions hung over the knight's head, and she could see the dismay in his expression. After a moment, he took her roughly by the waist and placed her on his horse.

"Fine – you ride with me."

"Belle!" Baelfire exclaimed, running up to her. The knight stopped him.

"It's treason to avoid service. You take a step further, boy, and you're hopping on one of these horses with us before your birthday."

"No!" Rumplestiltskin pulled Baelfire back now, using the little strength he had to keep him from running towards Belle. She finally looked at them - no, at Baelfire only - with a meaningful glance, silently urging him to be strong.

"You didn't even let me say goodbye!" Bae exclaimed hotly. "Give her back-!"

"Go!" the knight exclaimed, and Belle was forced to wrap her arms around his wide middle to keep herself steady. Baelfire immediately ran to Rumplestiltskin, his small fists pounding at his father's chest as he choked out a sob.

"Papa, what are you doing?! We can't just stand here, we have to get her back! We have to!" the boy exclaimed, his broken voice echoing through the forest. Rumplestiltskin was comforting him now, trying to calm him down. He saw a man in the shadows and sharply turned Baelfire away from him.

"Get away-!"

"It's okay," the beggar said, gently reaching out to them. "Let me help you."

Rumplestiltskin looked up to where the cavalry was galloping away, his heart aching with anguish when he saw her blue eyes on him, watching him and Bae. She'd never wanted him to protect her.

She'd protected him and Bae instead.

* * *

"Wake up."

Belle was jolted awake by the unpleasant sensation of falling. She cried out as she hit the hard ground, feeling something twist unpleasantly beneath her. She was suddenly aware that she was no longer outside on the leather saddle of a horse, but in something more akin to a cell. She spun around to face the knight, her eyes wide.

"Where are we?" she asked. "I demanded to be taken to Avonlea-"

"You have no power here," he spat, throwing her into the dungeon. "You're right – what _would _the Duke have done if I let Sir Maurice's only child get away? The Duke wanted you for himself as leverage against your father. Don't worry, there's a pigeon on its way right now telling Sir Maurice of your whereabouts. If your father wants to come collect you, he can – for a price." Belle's eyes widened when the man shut the door, locking her up tight.

"Wait! Wait, you can't just leave me here!"

"Actually," he said arrogantly as he walked away, "I can!"

"You don't understand, he doesn't know about me! _Please! _He won't come!" But it was no use, because soon she was left alone. She tried to recall every book and every movie she'd ever seen where a prisoner escaped from his or her enclosure. She had no technology, no hi-tech laser to cut through the wall. She had no C-4 to try and blast away the bars. So, she started with the usual ramming of the bars with her body, but she was much too small to do any meaningful damage.

She climbed the bars next, trying to see some sort of hole in the stone brick wall that might lead to a secret passageway out of there. She had started optimistic and hopeful, but as the hours went on and she continuously failed at her attempts, her good spirits faded. She became desperate, making noises of displeasure for lack of anything else to do. Someone might stop by and her to keep it down, but then she could try her luck at begging for her freedom. No one came though, and Belle began to wonder how many people were even in this wing of the Duke's castle.

After the desperation faded, she grew… well, bored. Out of her mind bored. She accepted her fate in the cell, passing the time by counting the amount of bricks surrounding her; she kept getting varying numbers between 198 and 201. Once in a while she would kick the bars or punch the walls, the slight pain the only thing reminding her that she was awake and not dreaming. She eventually grew so bored she fell asleep on the ground, no blanket to keep her warm or pillow to lift her head. She wasn't sure how long she had been asleep for, but when she awoke again, she felt extremely thirsty.

She gasped in air, finding it dry. It stung her throat. She slowly sat up, coughing and calling out to whatever soldier might be standing guard outside her cell.

"Water! Please!" Belle drew in a deep breath, but found herself coughing even more, something going down her throat. She opened her eyes, screaming when she realized the entire hallway in front of her cell was engulfed in flames. She wasn't thirsty – it was the smoke!

The flames were inching closer and closer to her, and she had absolutely nowhere to go. This couldn't be it. This couldn't be it for her. She hadn't even been able to reach out to her mother and tell her where she'd gone. She hadn't been able to catch a glimpse of her father. She'd just saved Baelfire from being conscripted early, shouldn't karma be in her favour for her good deed?

"Help!" she cried out but her voice was drowned out in the volume of the flames. Her head grew light as she inhaled yet another mouthful of smoke. She could hear her breaths beginning to wheeze, and all she could see was orange.

She thought back to her rash wish on that stupid star, and found herself wishing she had never came to this godforsaken place. There was a reason that her mother had left here. It was no different than Storybrooke – there were no happy endings here either. Some people just got lucky. Belle took in the sight of all the flames and all the black smoke surrounding her, and she felt her body go limp.

She wasn't one of the lucky ones.

* * *

Damn that beggar. He should have never trusted him. He had been so sure. He had been so sure that this was the answer to keeping Bae safe.

_It is_, his mind told him. _It is the only way to keep your boy safe. _A new, darker voice had invaded his thoughts. He was a monster now.

If only Belle had been there. How could so much have gone wrong since she left? It wasn't his fault, the beggar had provoked him! It was all a part of his plan, to provoke him so he would stab him and inherit this wretched curse. He looked down into his dark, hideous hands: he'd kept it, too.

The teacup.

The chipped teacup he was holding in his hands.

If she had been there, he wouldn't have made this mistake. If the knight hadn't _taken _her, he would still be normal. She would have been her usual clever self, and she would have told him there was something wrong with the beggar. Something off. He would have never done this.

He was caressing it now.

The teacup.

He felt a little mad, shaking with power and magic that his body wasn't used to. He could feel the weight of the dagger in its sheath. He couldn't yet control his new, darker thoughts, and it was the only reason he hadn't returned to Bae. At least now, no one would take Bae from him, no matter what the Seer said. But would Belle still love him even after her sacrifice to protect them? He'd just said those things to get her to leave - to keep her safe...

But no one could love him now.

_You can _make_ her love you_, the dark voice whispered to him. He shook his head, pocketing the teacup. That was not what he wanted.

_Then what do you want?_

He answered himself.

_I want to keep Bae safe._

An image flashed before his eyes then, the dark magic blinding him and making him cry out in pain. Men were on their way to his house – to take Baelfire away to the wars. Rumplestiltskin rose, growling with rage. He blinked once, and when his eyes opened again, he was standing atop a hill overlooking the little town.

He saw men walking out of _his _house with _his _son, and all he saw was red.

In less than a moment, he made his second kill of the day. One knight crumpled to the ground and Rumplestiltskin was left grinning maliciously at the knight who had been antagonizing him for days. Only – the knight didn't recognize him. It was the same man from the night before; the one who took Belle. What had the beggar called him? Ah – Hordor.

"Have you forgotten me already?" he asked darkly. "What was it you used to call me? Spindleshanks..?" He was snapping his fingers suddenly.

"Hobblefoot." It was the Dark One that was speaking, not him. It was the Dark One that was exacting revenge over the humiliation from the hours prior.

"Papa?" Not even the pure voice of his only son could bring him back now. Rumplestiltskin the wool spinner was no longer. His grin only grew when Hordor's gaze caught sight of what was once the Duke's dagger.

"Rumplestiltskin," he said, trembling.

"Wonderful. And now you shall know me as the _new_ Dark One. And as the _new_ Dark One, you will answer me." He pointed the tip of his dagger to Hordor's throat.

"Where is Belle?"

"In the Duke's Castle," he answered immediately, and Rumplestiltskin's slight panic caused him to press the tip just a bit deeper into his flesh, drawing blood. It was too early for the news to have reached any of the Duke's men that were on duty.

"Excuse me? You're going to have to say that again, because I don't think I heard you right. Did she not request to be taken to Avonlea, or are you daft?"

"They were the Duke's orders! We imprisoned her in his castle instead, upon his request."

"What?" Bae exclaimed, overhearing. "But- But the Duke's castle burned! Papa-!"

The flames he'd started the night before flashed before his eyes, and the rage overtook him again. He heard Bae gasp in the background as he slit Hordor's throat in fury before turning to his men. He moved swiftly, walking better than he had in years. He wasn't sure how he knew, he just _did_. He knew exactly where to strike to kill, and how to do so swiftly. In a matter of seconds, five men were dead on the ground, and Baelfire was backing away.

"You're safe, Bae," he told him. "Do you feel safe, son?"

"No. I'm frightened!" Perhaps those words would have hurt him before, but not anymore.

"I'm not. I've protected what belongs to me and I'm not scared of _anything._"

"What of Belle? Did you protect her?" Bae asked fearfully, and Rumplestiltskin glared.

"She was not mine to protect."

"Yes she was!" Baelfire exclaimed. "She was your true-"

"She was _nothing!_" Rumplestiltskin yelled, and that was enough to get Baelfire to run into the house in terror. Only when Baelfire was gone did he vanish, reappearing at the Duke's castle in desperation. The entire place was in ruin, people running about trying to repair it. He walked past them all, paying them no heed and practically running to the jail wing. He pushed past broken wood and fallen furniture, not letting anything stop him. His heart – if he still had one – was pounding hard in his chest the closer he got to the cells. Everything was burnt to ashes. He kept walking until he sensed her fading presence, his newfound magic guiding him.

Her cell had been burnt to a crisp, no bars even left to cage a prisoner in. He looked around at the cell; it was completely empty save for several piles of black ash. His eyes flickered between the strange amber of the Dark One and the demure brown of the wool spinner, and he fell to his knees in the cell, stricken with grief.

What had he done?

* * *

**A/N: **Okay. I know it looks bad. But I can fix it, I swear. All you need to do is R&R for the next chapter!


	5. The Price

When You Wish Upon a Star

Summary: Belle French is no longer happy in Storybrooke, wanting more than what life has to offer. One night, a wish upon a star brings her to a far-off land where there are ogres, werewolves and other beasts. Thankfully, she also happens upon a wool spinner and his son. (AU)

**A/N: **I am LOVING your reviews! So glad the last chapter was so well received! I was tuned into Paley Fest this Sunday... have you guys heard of Belle's upcoming Storybrooke counterpart? :D

On another note, do you know how I mentioned that the ratings were low this season? I just found out what the drop was – from 7.22 million to 2.1 million. If you aren't already doing so, let's tune in and support!

**Burtonized: **Thank you so much! One of my favourite things about reading is feeling the emotions that the characters are going through, so it's something I always try to do when I write as well. And yes – you really have to love Bae! You hate _my _cliffhangers? Man! What about Sunday's episode?!

**MyraValhallah**: Oh yes. Sure. Soon. Ahem.

**t.k: **Unfortunately, she can. KIDDING. Oh my god. Kidding.

**TeamTHEFT: **Hah! As if! I was devastated by yesterday's cliffhanger! At least I update more than once a week! I can't believe we sometimes have to wait two weeks between episodes! Patience is a virtue I do not have. That's why I love fanfics! Such a great way to pass the time until then.

**Andi88: **The cliffhangers you love to hate!

**Ki1era: **Thank you. ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Once Upon a Time.

* * *

Chapter 5: The Price

"Now, I'm going to make this very easy for you. All I want are simple yes and no answers. Do you follow?"

Rumplestiltskin wiped the blood off his dagger, smiling cruelly when he saw the Duke's terrified expression. Bound and gagged from where he sat on his own damaged throne, the Duke nodded, his body trembling.

"Did you imprison the daughter of Sir Maurice and the Lost Lady when she specifically asked to be taken to her father?"

Two slow nods.

"Did you have her thrown in a cell and locked up?"

Another nod.

"Did you notice the fire as soon as it started?"

The Duke nodded again. Rumplestiltskin pricked his finger on the tip of his blade to ensure it was sharp. A drop of blood fell, but the wound healed quickly.

"Mmhmm – and did you go to warn anybody about this fire?" he asked, his eyes glinting dangerously when the Duke shook his head.

"So you just ran?"

"I didn't-" the Duke tried, but his voice was muffled from the gag. Rumplestiltskin was on him in a second, pressing the dagger threateningly against his throat.

"Ah, ta, ta, ta, ta, ta. That's _not_ the right _answer_!" The Duke nodded hastily as a correction to his answer, fear for his life written all over his expression. Satisfied by his terror, Rumplestiltskin backed off. He roughly removed the cloth from his mouth and threw it to the ground, making the Duke cough.

"So you ran, and your new prisoner _died _in the fire," Rumplestiltskin continued, but this time his eyes held no trace of amusement or pleasure in the Duke's pain. All he showed, all he felt, was pure, utter hatred.

"No, it wasn't my fault!" the Duke protested.

"_My _fault?" Rumplestiltskin repeated savagely, raising his dagger. The Duke flinched as he flipped it, striking him hard with the hilt and not the blade. He cried out loudly, not expecting the strength behind the blow.

"What are you talking about, '_my_ fault'? You locked her up! You had her _trust_ and you locked her up!" All she had wanted to do was go to Avonlea to meet her father. She had sacrificed herself so the cavalry would leave him and Bae alone, trusting they would take her home. And instead she wound up _dead!_ He saw the bruising start to form across the Duke's cheek, but this didn't stop him from striking again. He knew it was the curse, this new dark magic possessing him. Never in his life had he felt so much _rage._

"She's gone - she's gone forever. She's not coming back. And it's _your_ fault! Not mine! It's _yours!_"

Rumplestiltskin flipped the dagger one final time, firmly grabbing the hilt and raising his arm to stab. The Duke's eyes widened and he tensed, paralyzed with fear, unable to do anything but watch his death fast approaching.

"Stop!"

Rumplestiltskin halted his attack, his hand shaking just a bit as he looked over his shoulder. Baelfire was standing there, face wet with the most tears he'd ever seen the boy shed.

"Papa," he begged. "Papa, stop." Baelfire ran to him, using his small hands to lower Rumplestiltskin's bloody ones. The boy was on the verge of hyperventilating when he realized his hands were covered in blood now, too.

"Belle wouldn't want you to," he cried. "Please, stop-!"

Rumplestiltskin jolted awake, drenched in a cold sweat. He ran a hand shakily through his hair, keeping his eyes closed despite the fact that it was pitch black in his room. He had to take several minutes to push away his son's petrified voice, to let his horrified expression fade from his mind. He hated these nightmares. They were always memories that he wanted to forget.

Finally waving his hand, all the candles in his room magically lit, illuminating his large bedroom quarters. As he sat up, he gently touched his portrait of Bae, then caressed the chipped teacup as though greeting them, both items sitting on his nightstand. He then glanced at his clock, realizing that his nap had been longer than he intended. He threw on his cloak and left the Dark Castle, comforted by the darkness of the late hour. Rumplestiltskin walked with purpose as he slowly pushed away the human emotions; the memories of Baelfire and Belle. More awake now, the Dark Magic flowed through him, hate and anger returning as he became Dark One for yet another day.

* * *

"Hello there, dearie."

Rumplestiltskin grinned maliciously when the young waitress jumped in fear. A new server tonight for him to terrorize tonight! How wonderful. She dropped the tray she was holding, but he flicked his wrist and it soared right back up into her arms. It was amazing how he could frighten people with such a simple greeting.

"Oh now, I never meant to scare you. Just comes with the job! Nyahh!" He'd perfected his laugh over the years, and to be honest, he was very proud of it.

"I- I'll fetch you a drink," she said nervously, hurrying to the back. Rumplestiltskin turned, surveying the pub's crowd. People had moved away from him the second he walked in, and he oh so conveniently found an empty table to sit at. He loved being feared. He relished seeing the horrified expressions on peoples' faces as he walked by. He'd spent his entire life afraid of others, but now he finally had the _power_. He could finally do the terrorizing.

The waitress returned quite promptly, setting down a pint of beer and ready to run far away from the infamous Dark One. But Rumplestiltskin grabbed her soft hand with his scaly fingers, pressing a gold coin into her palm.

"To whom do I owe the pleasure of such a wonderful pint?" he asked with sickening sweetness. He could feel her hand trembling in his own.

"B-B-Belle."

Rumplestiltskin's gaze shot up at her, looking the waitress up and down. Her eyes were too dark, her hair too light. She was not _his _Belle. Still, he didn't like hearing the name.

"No," he said dismissively. "No, that's not going to work. How about I call you Verna?"

The waitress recoiled her hand, looking offended.

"You call me whatever you like."

"That's the spirit, dearie! Say that around the pub tonight, and I guarantee you'll see a rise in your tips." He held up his pint to her in a false toast before taking a large sip.

It was amazing what could happen in a few short years.

He had done everything in his power to keep Baelfire safe. He had even stopped the Ogre Wars in their land so that there would be no fear of conscription! Now, Rumplestiltskin didn't like to consider himself overconfident, but single-handedly stopping a war that had been ravaging his land for decades? That was one of his finest moments. He thought that would be enough. He thought Bae and him could be happy, but…

Rumplestiltskin took a long sip of his beer, already almost halfway through the pint.

After everything, he had lost his son due to his own cowardice. After everything that happened, the Seer was still right. He thought bargaining for a firstborn child might make him feel better, so he toyed with the miller's daughter that he had met at the ball. She didn't remember him, but that damned girl was craftier than he'd expected. He was impressed by her; he did not give his name to many, usually referring to himself as the Dark One. But he gave his name to her. Cora had asked him why, and he'd given her a simple answer: "Because you've already earned it, dearie." He'd given his name to her at the ball, and it was only when he said it that she remembered how they had met. She immediately wanted to know how he had changed so much. For the very first time, a deal had not gone in his favour, and Cora deserved to be rewarded for that. Thanks to him she had married the King, just as her father had always wanted. He could use that influence to his advantage some day.

Over the years, the sting of loneliness and regret was something he had never learned to cure, but he'd become very adept at distracting himself from it. Whenever he felt like mourning for Belle, he would go and scare some children. Whenever he felt the anguish of losing Bae, he plagued a town - in between his deals of course. All in all, he had found a routine in his less than fortunate life, content with bringing misery to others. He took such pleasure in this because technically his victims brought the misery upon themselves. They would accept a deal with him even after he warned them that all magic came with a price. And despite his loneliness, he would not succumb to paying for female company, for no woman was as beautiful as his Belle had been. No woman could offer conversation as satisfying as his Belle had. Eventually, he decided that he had to stop letting her memory torture him. He still needed to strive forward for something that could transport him to a land without magic. He'd made a mistake when he let Bae go, but one day, he was going to correct it. He couldn't help what had happened to Belle, and he'd eventually made peace with that, but he still had time to correct what had happened to Bae.

Still, her stories from before were useful. He remembered Belle's tale from long ago – how her mother said sitting in a pub was the best way to overhear gossip. He had actually found this to be rather true, and it was often how he found the next desperate soul to prey on. It was how he located William Smee – how he found out that Milah had been alive all these years, living a fantastically adventurous life with Captain Killian Jones.

Well, he'd taken care of that.

He'd told Baelfire she was dead, and now she was dead. He really should feel more regret for ripping the woman's heart out and crushing it, but the years had taken away his more empathetic emotions. As the Dark One, it was so easy to hate. It was so easy to be angry with everyone. Nothing was ever his fault, it was everyone else's. Milah and him had been happy once, but now all he felt was animosity – how could she lie to her own family and abandon Bae? His anger was fueled into fury by the fact that Jones had tricked him. He'd been _so _close. Locating an existing giant's magical bean was proving to be a thorn in his side.

At the very least, he had acquired a vast amount of wealth over the years. So he purchased a castle, pleased when it barely made a dent in his wallet. He had dreamed of riches like this his entire life, and now he had it all. He prepared a room for Bae – when he brought him back to the Dark Castle, he would make sure they would live in luxury. As far as he was concerned, he would give Bae the life he'd always dreamed of, the boy would accept his apology, and everything would be fine.

Until Bae returned, however, Rumplestiltskin realized that the grand estate made him feel lonelier than he ever had before. He had found this pub looking for a distraction one night, and he dropped by once a week ever since. Tonight, however, the rumours were really catching his attention.

"Have you heard? The Lost Lady's returned."

"_No_ – after all these years? Where has she been?"

"No idea – nobody knows! All I know is that Lady Rose is back, and apparently, she's staying. She's been here for two months already – they only officially announced her return this morning. Avonlea finally has proper rulers again!"

He spent a good couple of hours listening to different people talk about the return of the Lost Lady. The news was sweeping the land, the townspeople wondering whether or not they would succeed in restoring Avonlea like they had all those years ago. All the stories seem to have the same general details, so he had little reason to doubt their truth. The thought of meeting Belle's parents made him feel a little strange considering he was the reason their daughter was dead. _No,_ he corrected himself viciously, _It's Hordor's fault she's dead._ _It's the Duke's fault she's dead. If they hadn't taken her-_

He quickly dismissed the thought; he had work to do. Belle had told him Lady Rose had run to Storybrooke. She had never told him much of the town, but she had mentioned it was from another world. That meant Lady Rose knew how to get between them. After all, she had returned here, hadn't she? He wanted to know her secret.

Rumplestiltskin paid for his drinks and returned to the Dark Castle. He wasn't just going to stroll into Avonlea and demand to talk to Lady Rose. The Dark One never approached anyone first unless they had backed out on a deal. He needed to devise a plan that would make Maurice reach out to him. His reputation was known well; he could do almost anything anybody wanted – for a price. They only needed to be desperate enough to pay it. Now, how was he going to make an oaf like Sir Maurice reach out to him so soon after his wife's return? The ruler must be treading lightly now, his actions cautious so he would not upset her again. This needed to be something so devastating that even Lady Rose would want to see him.

The answer was blaringly simple: famine. Avonlea was still engaged in the Ogre Wars since he'd only broken up the Wars from his territory. Food was critical to them to feed both troops and townspeople. He pulled out a map of Maurice's territory, and with a simple wave of the hand, all of their fields were stripped of their fertility, their existing crops rotten. In just a few weeks, they would begin to die.

And then, the Dark One would meet Lady Rose. He would ask her how she did it, and maybe, just maybe, she would be the key to finding his son.

* * *

Maurice was out of his chair the second he heard the knock on the door. He pulled it open to let the poor farmer in, guiding him to take a seat and offering him water and food. Once the farmer had a sip, he looked at him, worry wrinkling his face.

"Well?" he asked. "How does it look?"

"The land is barren," the farmer said, frowning. "Nothing is growing, even with the special fertilizer from the grasslands."

"How is this possible?" Maurice said, shaking his head. "We were told that this was our only hope. How will we feed our troops?"

"I'm sorry," the farmer said, bowing his head. Lady Rose went over to him, pressing a few gold coins into his hand.

"For your trouble. Go home, and bring your wife something."

"Thank you, Lady Rose," the farmer said, eyes widening at the act of kindness. "Thank you."

When the farmer left, Maurice caught her worried glance.

"What do we do now?" she asked, biting her lip when she saw the uncertainty on Maurice's face.

"I'm not sure. There's a lot that we have to do, with the wedding approaching-"

"Oh, Moe, don't you agree that the well-being of our troops and townspeople are more important than a superficial wedding?" Rose interjected, and Maurice shrugged.

"Well, sure, but he has been waiting for quite some time now. He saved her from that fire – took off the second we received the message she was being held captive for the Duke. He ran into a burning building! If it weren't for him-"

"I know, I know," Rose said, leaning back in her seat. "But she did not ask him to save her. She shouldn't have to be a part of this arranged marriage."

"Ever since he laid his eyes on her, he's only wanted to marry _her_! He's been very patient," Maurice huffed. "Most women would kill for that kind of loyalty from a nobleman."

All this talk of Gaston was going to make her sick. After a moment though, she furrowed her brow as she remembered something.

"Gaston told me of a man that has established a reputation as a dealmaker. Perhaps he could help us?"

"The Dark One?" Maurice said, knowing who she was referring to immediately. He looked uncertain, even a little frightened.

"Calling him seems rather extreme."

"But what choice do we have?" Rose asked, standing from her seat and pacing the floor. Maurice frowned. It _did _seem like their only option now that the grassland fertilizer had failed.

"Do you think making a deal with the Dark One seems wise?" he asked warily. Rose bit her lip, pacing quicker still as she thought out loud.

"If he is a dealmaker, we could see what his price is. We can always say no if we think it's too much. We should have Gaston here to protect us in case he tries anything out of the ordinary, though."

Maurice hesitated. He racked his brain for some other plan, but honestly, he could not think of any. He sighed, nodding his head.

"Okay. Let's bring him in."

* * *

Too easy.

Rumplestiltskin grinned wickedly as he appeared on the doorsteps of the Avonlea castle, responding to Maurice's call for help. Their castle was almost entirely destroyed – he could see a boulder that had smashed in a part of the roof. How had they not yet removed a boulder from their roof? He would never let his castle fall into such a state!

He was just about to enter when his body tensed, the feeling in the air changing the second his hand touched their large doors. The sudden ripple in energy was something he would recognize anywhere:

Magic.

Their castle was shrouded in magic.

He took a step back and looked it up and down now, carefully. He waved a hand but nothing happened, so the magic wasn't coming from a cloaking spell. This magic was much more powerful. How did a ruler as poor as Sir Maurice manage to have such a powerful spell protecting his small castle?

Well, he supposed he'd find out tonight.

To prove a point, he broke through the magical barrier and appeared just outside the door to their study. They thought they could keep people out with magic, but he wanted them to see that he was too powerful to keep away. He could hear them talking, voices low.

"Avonlea has fallen." There were gasps of shock, and other initial reactions that didn't interest Rumplestiltskin.

"If only he had come," someone said.

"Well he didn't, did he?!" Maurice's voice boomed over the others', and that evil smile pulled up at the corner of Rumplestiltskin's lips. The ruler was losing faith in his power already and he hadn't even met him yet. So he knocked – three solid bangs of his fist – and then closed his eyes, disappearing in a cloud of purple smoke.

When he reappeared, he was sitting in Maurice's rather uncomfortable throne, watching all the people turn their backs to him to go to the door. Gaston helped the stewards open it, and it took a lot of self-control not to giggle at their idiocy.

"It's him," Lady Rose said. "It has to be him!" Rumplestiltskin took a moment to observe her. She was tall, and if it had not been for the streaks of gray in her hair, he might have mistaken her for Belle from behind. At a better glance, he could see that she looked much older than Maurice. He didn't often hear tales of rulers' wives being older than their husbands, especially not by such a large gap.

"But how could he get past the walls? Open it!" Maurice ordered clumsily.

Rumplestiltskin sat up straight in his seat, noticing something strange. Gaston didn't look a day older than when he'd seen him at the ball. That must have been at least thirty years ago. Thirty years – had it really been that long since he'd lost Belle? Time flew by when you were immortal.

Suddenly, the thought struck him. That was it – that was why Lady Rose looked so much older. It wasn't an age gap, it was this castle! She had been in Storybrooke, growing older, and Maurice had been here. That was why the magic felt so powerful – nobody aged when they set foot in this castle. Everyone here had grown older by months at most, only aging when they left the castle to travel.

_Bravo_, he thought to himself. He would have never expected Maurice to have his hands on such an enchantment. When the guards opened the door and were met with nothing, he smiled, not letting his surprise at this little discovery show.

"Well, that was a bit of a letdown." They all turned to face him, startled by his presence. He could tell Sir Gaston the Idiot didn't recognize him from all those years ago. After all, he no longer looked like a man.

"You sent me a message," he said, not flinching when Gaston drew his sword. "Something about, um… 'Help! Help! We're dying! Can you save us?' Now the answer is…" Rumplestiltskin stood, the tip of Gaston's sword irritating him now. He swat the blade away.

"Yes I can. Yes, I can protect your little town – for a price."

He clasped his hands behind his back, standing straight while he swayed a bit on the heels of his feet.

"Now! First things first: I must compliment you on your magical castle. It caught me off guard when I first arrived. I never expected the ruler of Avonlea to require an enchantment that ceases aging."

"How did you know-?" Maurice began, and Rumplestiltskin sent him a look. Did he really need to ask that question? He was the Dark One. He knew all. Maurice sighed, his expression guarded.

"When I was searching for Lady Rose, the Blue Fairy helped me. Made it so we wouldn't even notice how much time was passing in this castle. Men in my family die young… I just wanted to live long enough to find her again. To show her I'd changed and stopped following the Duke's wicked ways."

"And found her you have!" Rumplestiltskin said, clapping merrily. "Tell me – what brought the Lady back from Storybrooke, hmm? Boredom… emptiness… love?" He looked between Maurice and Rose, but neither of them was willing to answer. It seemed his mention of Storybrooke had thrown Lady Rose off, as she had visibly gone two shades paler. He waved a hand dismissively.

"Don't want to talk about that? Fine. Doesn't matter, I didn't come here to gossip about your personal lives. I am interested, however, in finding out _how_ the Lady came back." He walked up to Rose then, circling her, encroaching her personal boundaries. Much like Belle, she did not falter, standing tall and strong. The only reason looking at her did not bring back such terrible memories was because her eyes were different. They were narrower; not as round as Belle's, and they were a dark brown. They weren't Belle's expressive, blight blue orbs. Similar Lady Rose may be, but she did not remind him of Belle.

Lady Rose watched him carefully, and he flashed her a wicked smile, waiting.

"… There was a time," she began, "Before that couple angered the giants. I was friends with them once. They helped me escape. They gave me two magical beans when they learned of my unhappiness: one to get to where I wanted to go, and the other to return should I ever change my mind."

Rumplestiltskin felt his shoulders sag, and fury coursed through his veins. These damned beans again! Was there truly no other way?! His expression fell, gaze formidable as he turned on his heel. What a waste of his time. He was going to let their town starve and die for all the trouble he'd gone through for such useless information.

"Wait!" Lady Rose exclaimed, misunderstanding his exit. "We gave you our knowledge, now you must save our people!"

Rumplestiltskin turned, infuriated by her ignorance. He extended an arm out and watched as magic knocked the older woman into the wall. His fist was tense, magical grip around her neck threatening to choke her. Swords surrounded him but he didn't flinch.

"I said I would save your people for a price," he said cruelly. "I never _named_ that price. This _knowledge,_ as you call it, is useless to me, because there are no more beans left. Now – do you have a bean?" he asked her, and she shook her head.

"Do you have a way to transport me between worlds?" he asked, and again, Lady Rose shook her head. He released her and walked towards the door.

"Then you have _nothing_ I desire."

But the doors swung open, and he was so caught off guard that he actually stumbled in his step, his eyes wide.

"Papa, you can't just let him leave like this!" A woman dressed in gold stormed in, her eyes so blue it made his heart wrench with unpleasant memories. As the royal family fell into chaos around him, all he could do was stare.

"_Belle_," Maurice scolded. "I told you to stay away. It's not safe! Gaston, get her out of here!"

"I will not hide away in the shadows and let him leave! We need to save our people!"

Rumplestiltskin felt light-headed; he felt like he was going to pass out. The Dark Magic quickly empowered him though, and with its strength he swallowed his astonishment. He looked into Belle's eyes, not a day older, trying to catch her expression. She had to be surprised to see him – she had to be. After all these years...

He watched as Belle fought Gaston off, looking Rumplestiltskin directly in the eye.

"Name your price," she demanded, and when he didn't speak, she took a step towards him. "Name it!"

"Belle!" Lady Rose exclaimed, scolding her, and all the puzzle pieces finally fit. That was why she had come back. She'd figured out her daughter found her way back to this world, and she followed her. Belle had been alive this entire time!

"Dark One?" Belle said again, ignoring her mother. She tilted her head, like she had all those years ago when she tried to catch his gaze in their small hut. A hundred different images flashed before him, and Rumplestiltskin closed his eyes to try and shut it all out.

She'd called him _Dark One._ She didn't recognize him. He'd thought, out of all the people that might recognize him this way, in this new form, Belle would for sure be one of them. Milah had remembered, Hook had remembered… Hell, even Cora had eventually remembered! Why not his lovely, beautiful, very much alive Belle?

They were still awaiting an answer, and as the all-powerful Dark One, he couldn't let them see him confused and vulnerable. He wiped the surprise off his face and forced a smile.

"You wish for me to name my price?" he asked, looking at all of them. No one answered, all of them holding their breaths while they waited for him to speak.

"My price," he said, looking to Belle now, "is her." He stood up straighter at the outraged expressions on Maurice and Rose's faces.

"No," Maurice answered immediately. Rose was right beside him.

"Absolutely not," she agreed. Gaston stood in front of Belle then, keeping him from her.

"Belle is engaged to _me._" The words made Rumplestiltskin want to gag. Belle had so many qualities; she had so much potential. And she was going to marry _him?_ He was monotonous and he was boring, and he did _not_ deserve Belle. He kept the fury to himself, maintaining his mischievous demeanor.

"I wasn't asking if she was engaged. I'm not looking for lo-" he stopped himself, unable to say the word in front of her."I'm looking…" he struggled to think of something on the spot, only speaking when he remembered what Belle had called herself when they first met.

"I'm looking for a caretaker." He glanced at her then, and he still saw no recognition in her eyes. He saw, perhaps, intrigue and curiosity despite his cruelty, but then, she wouldn't be his Belle if she wasn't curious.

"It's her," he said to Maurice now, "or no deal."

Maurice shoved his shoulder roughly, pushing him towards the door.

"Get out. _Leave!_"

Rumplestiltskin cackled quietly, nodding his head. Even if he left, at least after all these years, he knew Belle was alive. He felt like a giant weight had been lifted off his shoulders, her death one less thing to be burdened by. He was not troubled by many deaths, but hers? Hers had been hanging over his head, thinking she was what it had cost to become the Dark One. It seemed coming here had not been a waste of time after all.

"As you wish." He walked right by Belle, and he saw that look in her eye. It was her look of determination, and he knew he had her.

"No, wait!" she exclaimed, and he stopped walking. He should have been thrilled. He should have been delighted to be reunited with her again after all these years, but… she didn't remember. She was engaged to another. She held no love for him. So why did he want her to come with him?

_You're selfish, _his mind whispered cruelly, but he couldn't disagree. Rumplestiltskin stood beside her as she faced her family and Gaston, speaking with authority.

"I will go with him."

Of course, nobody wanted to hear it.

"No!"

"I forbid it!" But Belle countered them, like he knew she would. How could he know a person so well when she couldn't even remember the brief life they'd shared together? Did that mean she'd forgotten Bae too?

"No one decides my fate but me," she said. "I shall go. What is one small life in exchange for hundreds?"

"It's forever, dearie," he warned her, but she didn't look surprised.

"My family, my friends – they will all live?" He bowed a bit, nodding his head.

"You have my word." It was enough for Belle, and she nodded too.

"Then you have mine. I will go with you - forever." Maurice and Rose were at her side.

"Belle," Rose said sadly. "You cannot do this. I've just returned-"

"Don't go with this beast," Maurice pleaded, but Belle put on that angelic expression. She wore that gentle expression that had defeated him so many times in the past.

"I'm sorry. It's been decided." Rumplestiltskin decided to help her out a little bit, placing his scaly hand on her bare shoulder.

"You know, she's right." His grin was cruel as he looked at the three devastated nobles. "The deal is _struck_." His hand moved down to the small of her back now, guiding her towards the door.

"Oh," he added as an afterthought. "Congratulations on your little war!" He didn't even pay them a second glance as they walked away, leaning closer to Belle then.

"Now, I like gold as much as the next person," he said quietly. "But not on you. How do you feel about blue?"

* * *

When they arrived at his castle, he said nothing, walking away from her and to his spinning wheel. He heard Belle's quiet footsteps behind him, but now that they were alone, he was going to find it much more difficult to restrain himself. He spun the straw, watching as it turned to gold and fell neatly into the basket. He could feel Belle's gaze on him, but he ignored her, waiting for her to speak first. It was several minutes before she did.

"So, what do you want me to do?"

He turned in his seat so he was facing her, but his expression was guarded. He decided to try something.

"My name is Rumplestiltskin," he said.

"Rumplestiltskin," she repeated, her gaze looking up and to the right as she memorized the name. She offered him a nervous smile.

"I'm Belle." She was completely missing the point of him telling her his name. "Nice to-"

"My name," he repeated, leaning forward in his seat again and watching her expectantly. "Is Rumplestiltskin."

Surely she remembered? His name was not exactly as common as David or Philip. But Belle was looking at him with confusion, with no recognition whatsoever.

"Yes," she said. "I heard you the first time. Rumplestiltskin, like that character from the old wives' tale."

What? What in the world did that mean? She'd always said such strange things. At least some things hadn't changed. Rumplestiltskin shook his head, not entirely sure how to handle the situation. Part of him wanted to lock Maurice up in a dungeon and demand answers as to why the woman he loved – _once _loved, he corrected himself – couldn't remember him. But that would mean revealing that he'd known Belle before he became the Dark One, and he tried as much as possible not to reveal his old life to anyone.

He gestured for her to take a seat across from him at the table, and she obeyed. He decided try this from a different angle.

"You're not from our world, are you?"

Belle looked surprised by his question, but after a moment, she shook her head.

"No," she agreed. "I'm not."

"Where are you from?" he asked her, and Belle licked her lips.

"A place called Storybrooke."

Rumplestiltskin sighed, leaning back in his seat and folding his arms across his chest. Even after all these years, she would not lie to him. Instead of letting her into his home like before, he'd forced her here. Instead of her sanctuary he was her kidnapper – but still she didn't lie to him. He was very aware that he looked like he was studying her. Belle was fidgeting before him, self-conscious from his gaze. He was just trying to understand what had happened. So she didn't remember him, but she remembered Storybrooke.

"Do you know a boy named Baelfire?" he asked, and Belle's eyes lit up. His heart skipped a beat.

"Yes! Well, I did. When I first came here, Baelfire took me in. If it weren't for him, I would know nothing about this world. I don't think I would have survived. But how do you know-"

"What of his father," Rumplestiltskin interrupted. "What do you remember of Baelfire's father?"

Belle blinked, looking up again as she tried to recall the memories.

"I don't think he had a father," she said. "I think he was an orphan."

Her words sent a rage through him that he had not expected. Rumplestiltskin knocked over his wheel and stood, pointing a finger at Belle.

"He was _not_ an orphan!" he roared. Belle gasped a bit in fear, pressing herself against the chair and sinking a bit as she created what little distance between them that she could.

"Then I don't remember his father!" she exclaimed, and Rumplestiltskin released a breath. He took in her frightened stature, clenching his jaw as he tried to fight the urge to frown. Whatever had happened to her, it had singled out _him_ specifically. He was the only one she could not remember.

"I- I'm sorry," she said quietly, pulling him out of his thoughts. "I didn't mean to upset you."

He mentally scolded himself, trying to keep regain his composure. He shook his head and faced Belle once more.

"No matter. Come, I'll show you to your room."

He led her up the grand staircase to his best guest room. As cruel as he tried to make himself out to be, having Belle back after all these years was some sort of miracle. Memory or no memory, he was grateful she was alive. He pushed open the door for her, and she walked in with wide eyes. He found himself watching her, some sort of warmth overcoming him. Was it – affection? How long had it been since he'd felt affection?

"You're letting me stay here?" she asked breathlessly.

"Do you not like it?"

"Oh, it's beautiful. It's larger than my room back in Avonlea. I just thought you would throw me in a dungeon or something." She was smiling at him, as though she found what she said to be rather silly. Rumplestiltskin arched a brow. He'd considered it, but she didn't need to know that.

"Do you _want_ to stay in the dungeon?"

"No," she giggled, baffling him. He had just taken her away from all her loved ones not even two hours ago, and she was already laughing. How could she manage to do that? He quickly pushed the thought aside and waved to the empty armoires and dressers in the room. Clothes of all kinds suddenly appeared, making her eyes go wide.

"You'll find the castle will provide much of what you need. It will cook our meals and you only need serve them. Join me for breakfast in the morning and I will go into detail about what you are to do here to pass your time. I eat at eight o'clock sharp."

Belle turned to face him then, offering him a small smile.

"Thank you," she said, and he reached for the doorknob, preparing to shut her door for the night. He did not smile back.

"I took you from your family, your friends, your life. You should not be thanking me. You are my prisoner – forever, dearie," he reminded her. Belle just shrugged, not looking bothered by his words.

"Actually, the deal you struck was for me to be your caretaker," she reminded him boldly. "But yes – forever."

* * *

**A/N**: So, what's the verdict? What did you guys think? Leave me a review and let me know! Next chapter we will be finding out more details about what happened to Belle. ;)


	6. We Shall See

When You Wish Upon a Star

Summary: Belle French is no longer happy in Storybrooke, wanting more than what life has to offer. One night, a wish upon a star brings her to a far-off land where there are ogres, werewolves and other beasts. Thankfully, she also happens upon a wool spinner and his son. (AU)

**A/N: **I was absolutely thrilled to see how quickly your reviews came rolling in! It normally takes an entire evening to get the responses I received from all of you in a few hours for Chapter 5. Many, many thanks! In this chapter, Rumple and Belle slowly grow accustomed to each other, and something sparks Belle's memory for but a moment. Rumple also has to deal with an unwanted visitor. Enjoy!

**Burtonized:** I'm so sorry! I didn't even think about how new episodes air at different dates. Now I feel really stupid. Keeping this in mind I'll be more cautious about mentioning what episodes I'm referencing in the chapter (this one refers to a scene from Skin Deep). There have been some parts in the fic that I just summarize from Season 2 episodes, so I hope you haven't been too lost. In terms of Gaston – wait until you see what I have in store for him next chapter. ;)

**Stargate533: **Thanks for the review! You should be figuring it out in the next chapter or two.

**TeamTHEFT: **I love your enthusiasm! You should be figuring out the whole memory thing within the next chapter or two. I can't wait to get started on writing the next one!

**Ki1era: **Thank you so much for the great review. I hope the rest of the fic continues to entertain. :)

**MyraValhallah: **Haha! Seems everybody feels that way. Don't worry, you'll find out soon, but not yet!

**Nightmaregirl & Electyrone: **Welcome, new reviewers! I'm so glad to hear you like the story. Unfortunately the tidbit you're both so curious about won't be revealed in this chapter, but it will be soon!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Once Upon a Time.

* * *

Chapter 6: We Shall See

Damnit.

Belle was running frantically through the Dark Castle's seemingly endless corridors, trying to find the one from last night. She really should have asked for a tour, but it had been such a long night already she hadn't wanted to extend it. She had spent much of the evening missing her recently reunited parents, and the friends she had made over the years. But come sunrise she reminded herself to be strong – that she was here for a good reason. She wanted to save her people. If she was going to be here forever, then she wanted to be as content as she could be, and that meant no sulking.

The clocks she ran by were all reading quarter after eight and she hadn't even found the kitchen yet. She bit her lip as she wondered what kind of trouble she would be in for being late. She imagined being tardy for an appointment with the Dark One wasn't exactly wise, even if it was just breakfast. But his castle was so _large!_ How could he possibly remember where everything was? How had he managed to fill it up with all of these strange objects?

Belle turned the corner, squealing slightly as she skidded to a stop, almost knocking Rumplestiltskin over. His arms shot out to steady her, but his expression was displeased.

"You're late."

"I know," Belle said, wiping the sweat off her brow from all of the running she had been doing. "I got lost. I was trying to find the kitchen but I ended up in the courtyard, then I tried to find my way to the grand hall from last night, but I couldn't locate it either-"

"Give all the excuses you want, it doesn't change the fact that you're late. If you didn't want to be late, perhaps you should have gotten up earlier to explore, eh dearie?"

"My name is Belle," she replied a little more firmly than necessary. "I understand that I'm late, but how could you possibly expect me to find you? Your castle is ridiculously large for just two people. If I am to be your caretaker, I expect a proper tour." She was, perhaps, a little too used to being obeyed in Avonlea. Belle felt rather wary when she saw his unimpressed expression, his hands folded calmly behind his back.

"You expect much for a servant."

Belle bit her tongue, not wanting to release another cheeky remark. If that was how he saw her, then fine. But she couldn't be a good servant if she didn't know her way around.

"Will you show me to the kitchen?" she asked more politely. "Please?" She saw the sick, twisted smile tug up at the corner of his lips, apparently contented that she had swallowed her pride and become more compliant.

"Of course," he said, placing a hand on her back and guiding her in the opposite direction in which she had been running. "You look lovely today. Blue suits you."

Belle glanced at him, wondering for the hundredth time why he had brought her here. Their conversation from last night had left her confused; how did he know all these things about her - about Storybrooke, about Baelfire? But, she supposed, he was the Dark One. She'd heard stories of how he knew too much. She had already learned he had a short temper, so she had to be careful not to set him off. He led her to the kitchen without a word. When they arrived, she saw a tray completely ready with their breakfast. He gestured for her to lift it, and once she had, he led her back to the grand hall that she had seen last night. She made sure to memorize the path this time, not wanting to be late for the next meal.

When they arrived, Rumplestiltskin took his seat, as did she. She took a napkin from the tray and placed it on her lap, but when she looked up, he was watching her expectantly. His gaze darted to the second napkin on her tray.

_No,_ she thought. _He's not serious?_

But he was. He was wearing that ridiculous smile when he was pleased things were going his way. She'd seen it, hiding in the castle last night. He'd known the entire time that he had her parents wrapped around his finger. He was doing the same to her now, waiting expectantly not because he wanted it, but because he knew she didn't want to do it. It wasn't actually out of the ordinary; she'd seen servants do it for her father, but she was no ordinary servant to him, and she knew it. It was why he had brought her on as his 'caretaker' - he had brought her here for a reason.

Belle said nothing, deciding to bite the bullet and stand up. She threw her napkin on her chair a little harder than necessary, then took the one off the tray and draped it with surprising grace over Rumplestiltskin's lap. She did not look him in the eye because she could already _feel _his haughty gaze on her.

"So," she said, casually, pretending that it hadn't fazed her. "You were going to tell me what I have to do to pass the time." Rumplestiltskin clapped his hands together once.

"Ah – yes! You will serve me my meals, and clean the Dark Castle. You will dust my collection and launder my clothing. Following me so far?" he asked, and Belle nodded.

"You will, overall, tend to my needs as I see fit and care for the estate when I go away on business."

"Away?" Belle repeated, looking up from her food. "You're going to leave me here alone?"

"Sometimes," he said, his gaze looking her up and down. "But don't try leaving. Bad things will happen to you if you try, and I would be very much displeased to return only to have to pick up the pieces."

Belle should have been frightened by what he said, but she lowered her fork.

"I gave you my word," she said. "There is no need for such extreme measures. What if I go for a stroll and I trip and fall against the entrance gate? Will it kill me?"

"No," Rumplestiltskin said, though she had succeeded in making him smile, however evil it looked. "You have to have the intent of running for something bad to happen. As such, once every fortnight you will fetch me fresh straw from the nearby village when spinning at the wheel. That village is the only place outside this castle that you are allowed, and should you so much as _think_ about doing anything other than returning to me, you _will _regret it, dearie."

"Belle," she corrected again, ignoring all of his threatening banter. "I have a name – use it." Rumplestiltskin leaned back in his seat then, touching the tips of his fingers together as he regarded her.

"You like your name," he noted by her persistent request, and Belle nodded.

"Of course. Why bother giving anyone names if people are just going to use generic nicknames? Don't you like yours?"

Rumplestiltskin raised his brows.

"My name is Rumplestiltskin," he said. "Do _you_ think I like my name?"

Belle giggled unexpectedly at the quip, raising the napkin to cover her lips as she did. She caught him looking at her again, and she preferred his teasing expression to the fierce one he had worn yesterday. He seemed pleased that he had made her laugh, and she wondered if this man was really as evil as everybody said. She placed her fork in her mouth, unaware that this would be the first in a series of times that she would catch his gaze flicker to her lips. This time, she pretended not to notice.

"Every time you call me dearie," she warned, "I will call you Rump."

Rumplestiltskin made a face, looking her in the eye and grateful when he realized she was joking. She needed to learn what would genuinely set off his temper and what would just warrant a more stimulated conversation. What she said did not seem to be too bold, because he was soon looking at her with surprise.

"You certainly are an insubordinate caretaker."

"I am," Belle agreed with a pretty smile, satisfied he had called her his caretaker and not his servant or prisoner. "But you'll learn to love me."

* * *

Belle had to admit, she had not known what to expect when she made her deal with Rumplestiltskin. She'd heard the stories, so she had initially assumed that she was going to have to live the rest of her life in fear. When he'd arrived at her castle, she had been hiding in the next room under the orders of her parents and Gaston, all of them claiming it was unsafe for her to be around. Fortunately, she was not left mad with curiosity because there was a small hole in the wall that allowed her to see her father's throne. She'd seen Rumplestiltskin sitting there, watching them all as they turned to open the door while he sat alone. He had been pensive, concentrated… and, for just one second, the Dark One looked more lonely than evil as he watched her family. That loneliness reminded her of someone, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

But then he put on that smile, that wicked smile, and she began to see that all the rumours had some merit to them. Still, she was intrigued by those few seconds he'd worn a different expression, when he hadn't actively been the Dark One. The amount of concentration on his face reminded her of someone spinning wool, having to take extra care when it was covered with an excessive amount of lanolin.

Belle paused, wondering how her train of thoughts had led her there. She'd never known a wool spinner in her entire life, from Storybrooke or from here. How did she even know what a wool spinner – or lanolin, for that matter – was? She quickly shook her head as she recalled it. After the fire, Gaston had gotten the report back from the Duke's men. They seemed to think a wool spinner had caused it, and they supported their claim with the evidence of finely spun wool and the stench of the lanolin left behind in the remnants of the castle. Probably a poor townsman seeking revolution, one of the stewards suggested.

It had taken a long time for Belle to get used to the idea of fire again, always flinching when a candle was lit or a fire in the fireplace was started. She remembered it like it was yesterday, but she wasn't entirely sure if it was because the experience had been so traumatizing or because the enchantment upon her father's castle made her unaware of how much time had passed. She remembered laying there on the cell floor, crushed into a corner and covering as much of herself as she could from the flames. Burning to death was apparently one of the most painful ways to go, and she was terrified of the inevitable pain. But then, a figure emerged through the heavy flames, jumping quickly through whatever gaps he could find in the fire. He was holding the keys to her cell, and she'd felt so much relief she practically collapsed into his arms. It didn't matter that she had been slightly burned as he helped her escape, it didn't matter that he had to use his thick cloak to pat out the small flames around her when they got outside. She was just grateful she made it out alive.

At first, she'd expected it to be… someone else. That was the only part about the entire memory that was foggy. She had not been expecting Gaston to be her rescuer. She'd always given the nobleman a hard time, but after that night she was pleasant and civil, grateful for every day that she was alive. He had risked his life for her, and she didn't know anyone that would have done that for someone who was basically a stranger. Apparently his success in rescuing her had been a complete fluke, managing to find all the cell's keys on various hooks outside the jail, so it hadn't taken too much time to find hers and get her out.

A part of her knew that this world was different, that she _should_ marry Gaston out of duty, given his loyalty and what he had done for her all those years ago. But the part of her from Storybrooke also knew that she didn't want to because she just didn't love him. She was grateful, but was that really enough of a reason for her to promise to be with someone for the rest of her life? She still wanted the romance that her books always seemed to idealize.

_The man ran through fire to save you,_ she reminded herself, _What more do you want?_

Belle thought after all these years she had shed her dependability on technology from Storybrooke and her unfamiliarity with this world. Unfortunately, living in the Dark Castle, she was unpleasantly reminded of what it felt like to adapt to an entirely new lifestyle. Her entire time in the Enchanted Forest, she had to get used to the different ways of cleaning, of cooking, of basic hygienic and day-to-day tasks, but she had never been forced to deal with magic outside of her father's enchantment. While Belle always loved to learn new things, just being surrounded by magic was draining, the energy in the castle thicker and darker than she was used to.

She spent her first few weeks getting to know him, because interacting with him was always a good way to keep herself distracted from missing her old life. It made it easier once she'd learned his moods and was able to stop herself before she pushed him too far. Eventually she was rewarded with more moments like the one she had seen in Avonlea – those unguarded looks that showed her he had been a man once, before he'd become the Dark One.

Slowly, Belle grew more comfortable with him. She even grew comfortable enough to ask him personal questions, and eventually he grew comfortable enough to answer. She'd found she rather enjoyed her conversations with him. Suddenly the mornings were not so terrible to wake to, and she formed a small bond with the man that everyone called the Dark One. He wasn't so bad, she decided, once you got to know him. One afternoon they had shared a couple of jokes before she'd fallen off a ladder trying to take down the curtains, and he'd readily caught her in his arms. The feeling was oddly familiar, and the confused expression on his face intrigued her. Perhaps he was noticing these little sparks between them as well?

Belle took particular care in her appearance one night after a long day of cleaning, having discovered a remarkable blue dress in her armoire. The sleeves hung pleasantly off the shoulder, exposing just a touch of skin and flattering her collarbone. She could tell, by her reflection in the mirror, that just a few scars from the fire were visible, but she hardly paid them any mind. The dress was too beautiful not to wear. After powdering her nose and painting her lips red, she covered up her mirror again, knowing that he preferred to keep them all covered. She briefly wondered if he hated his appearance - if he missed what it was like to look human.

When she walked into the grand hall with their evening tea, he was spinning as usual. She set the tray down on the table, carefully watching his reaction. His gaze roamed over her form and to be honest it delighted her, as he'd never looked at her like that before. She watched as his stare trailed from her bared skin to her red lips, and finally, her blue eyes.

"Going out tonight, dearie?" he teased, covering up his reaction. "You're not scheduled to pick up straw for another week!"

"No," she answered with a coy smile, seating herself at the table. "I just didn't feel like looking like a servant tonight."

"If servants always looked like you, I might have a few more," Rumplestiltskin said with a smirk. Belle laughed.

"Was that a roundabout way of telling me you think I'm pretty?" she asked, but the question was too bold. The teasing expression disappeared from his face and he returned to spinning the wheel.

"You don't need anyone to tell you how beautiful you are, Belle," he said eventually, his voice different; lower, perhaps, and more human. He stayed silent for a while, and he turned to look at her when he realized she was still there.

"Can I help you with something, dearie?" he asked, and Belle inwardly sighed. Seemed he wasn't in much of a talking mood that night.

"No," she said. "I suppose not. I was just trying to find a way to pass the time."

She turned to leave, thinking that her room was as good a place as any to get lost in her thoughts. He caught her off guard when he spoke, stopping her in her tracks.

"I may be able to help you with that," he said. Belle turned, genuine curiosity on her face.

"How so?" she asked, and she tried so hard not to look intrigued that she probably looked even more so. Rumplestiltskin stood from his wheel and placed a hand on the small of her back, once again guiding her through the castle. This time, instead of going downstairs towards the kitchen, they went up, towards his study that she knew she wasn't allowed into. He gestured to two large mahogany doors, and after a curt nod to assure her it was fine, Belle pushed open the doors.

She was certain that for a few moments, she'd forgotten how to breathe.

Belle stumbled into the largest library she'd ever seen, her eyes going wide as she hungrily tried to read the titles on every book spine that fell under her gaze. It was a filthy place, the desk nearby caked in dust, but it held so many books that she had to remind herself not to squeal with delight. She spun on her heel then, a broad grin stretching across her face. His gaze flickered to her mouth again.

"You did this for me?" she asked. Too overwhelmed by the thought of having an endless amount of books to pass the time, she hadn't realized it was the wrong thing to say. Rumplestiltskin shut down immediately, that invisible shield going up and preventing her from reading his expression.

"I simply filled this room with books. It is _you_ who will have to take the time to tidy the place up." Despite his cold answer, Belle took a step towards him and wrapped her arms around him in an embrace. It was just natural for her to express her gratitude with a hug. He stiffened beneath her hold and didn't return the gesture, so she pulled back.

"Sorry," she said bashfully. "It's just – I think the last time I set foot in a library was when I was back in Storybrooke. How did you know I love to read?"

Rumplestiltskin shrugged.

"Don't most people?" he asked nonchalantly. Belle smiled to herself, turning around slowly and once again taking in the sights of this beautiful room. She stood there, with her back to him for a long while as she just basked in the feeling of having a place she truly felt like she belonged in.

"I heard about the fire," Rumplestiltskin said suddenly, snapping her out of her thoughts. He had been staring at the scars on her shoulder, and there was something in his expression that she just couldn't make out.

"What?"

"I heard you were in the fire when the Duke's castle burned." He looked troubled, and after a few seconds, he said something, voice so quiet that it was barely a whisper. "I'm sorry."

Belle cocked her head to the side, used to the pity. After she'd been rescued, everyone had given her their condolences - Gaston especially, for not getting her out fast enough for her to avoid the burns. What she didn't understand was why everyone always said they were sorry, as if they were the reason that she had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Don't be," she said pleasantly, walking up to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. "It wasn't your fault."

* * *

Rumplestiltskin was _exhausted._

He should have really put more thought into bringing Belle into his castle. His home had been the only place where he could relax and let down his guard. It had been the only place where he could close his eyes and _remember_ how he had once been. He could have nightmares of Bae and not worry about someone walking in. He didn't have to wear any false pretences; he did not have any reputation to live up to. Not here at his Dark Castle.

Not until now.

For thirty years – _thirty years _– it had been so easy to hate anyone he came across. He used to be able to act however he pleased and wallow in self-pity when he felt like doing so in the privacy of his chambers. Being the Dark One had been easy and satisfying, unrestricted by morals or the falsities of where being good would take him. But now there was someone around, and she wasn't just _any_ someone.

She was his Belle.

He did his best to keep her at arm's length, showing civility without friendliness, but she kept pushing him, somehow making his feelings for her grow stronger and stronger. With no one else around she sought his company like no one else had, and for once he actually felt _wanted_. Sometimes, usually on the nights he felt lonely, he would succumb to those blue eyes and talk more freely than he'd like to admit. One day, when Gaston had tried to take Belle back, he'd turned the git into a rose and handed it to Belle. Her coy acceptance of his little gift had been enough to make his heart flutter. But their days were as unpredictable as the weather – some days, they would get along well, and others he would yell something at her and shut himself up in his study until she asked him to come down for dinner. He was torn; the Dark One was not supposed to be vulnerable around anyone, and he struggled with that because he also knew that he wanted to make Belle happy.

It was nigh impossible to do both.

Now that he knew she was alive, he no longer felt guilty for her death. Unfortunately, he was now wearing the guilt of being her kidnapper, and trying to keep her happy while also trying to keep his distance was draining. He knew that he was growing fond of her, but it was different than before. Before the love had lifted his shoulders; it brightened his spirits. Now his love felt darker; more possessive - most likely a result of his curse. He was taking too much pleasure in knowing he was the only person in her life now that made those lips smile and laugh.

He had been extremely displeased when he returned home from one of his weeklong trips on a day that Belle was in the village fetching straw. His failed attempts at bottling true love's magic had agitated him, and to make matters worse, Bae's birthday came at dawn. That was the one day a year he absolutely refused to do any deals. It was his dark day, and it always brought along so many bad memories. He had just hoped that Belle would ease the pain this year.

Rumplestiltskin groaned, glancing at the clock. He didn't care if she told him a story or yelled at him – he just found himself craving her presence, even if it meant another exhausting night keeping his distance. He walked over to his cabinet, pulling out his oldest bottle of brandy. Belle wasn't there, so he took advantage of her absence to finally let his guard down; something he hadn't been able to do in a long time with her constant presence at the castle. He did not even bother to summon a glass, uncapping the bottle and drinking straight from it. He walked over to the window, looking out at Avonlea's small land on the horizon. The fields were beautifully coloured and lush, and the homes were almost fully restored. Belle was still here with him, so he was still keeping up his side of the bargain.

He took another swig of brandy, and he could already tell that tonight was one of the nights where nothing he drank would satisfy.

"_Happy birthday, Bae._" Voices from long ago echoed through his mind. He closed his eyes and could see seven year-old Baelfire smiling at him, chubby arms reaching out for his present.

"_Thank you, Papa! Wow! A wooden sword!"_

"_Made it myself, Bae. I had extra wood left from my new staff. Now we can properly battle those pirates and play that game you like!"_

"_It's not a game, Papa," _He could hear the boy's offended tone so well he may as well have been right beside him. _"It's real. We fight pirates for real!"_

"_That's right, for real. Sorry, Bae."_

"_It's not Bae! When I'm fighting pirates and rescuing damsels, you have to go by my hero name!"_

"_And what would that be?"_

"_Peter Pan!"_

Rumplestiltskin felt the anguish of missing Bae ripple through him, and he rolled his head back, finishing the rest of his liquor. With that bottle done, he grabbed another from the cabinet, not entirely sure what he was drinking now. But it tasted good and it was _strong_, so it would do the trick. As he swallowed the burning liquid, he heard Belle's pleasant, lilting voice from thirty years:

"_You're not a coward."_

It was getting dark now. If he'd been sober enough he might be concerned for Belle's whereabouts. However, he knew the walk to the village was long, and even if she left before lunch she always came back after nightfall. He stood up and he felt the room spin. It span a little too fast, and it caused him to drop whatever he was drinking, glass shards from the bottle scattering everywhere across the floor.

He heard a gasp from the door, and he tried to lift his head to look at her, but it felt so heavy. In a swirl of lace and the colour blue, Belle was at his side, helping him to his feet and being careful not to let either of them tread on the grass.

"I should have skipped this trip to the town," she said with a pout. "You are in no condition to spin anything."

Rumplestiltskin had to close his eyes when her arm went around his shoulders, keeping him upright. How long had it been since someone touched him, not wanting to do him any harm? He reached an arm out towards his liquor cabinet again, but Belle gently lowered the limb.

"Sorry, Rumplestiltskin. No more for you tonight. I am the caretaker not only of the estate, but of you as well, and that means I'm calling the shots right now."

This would be the perfect place to say something witty and slightly mean, but his sloshed brain could only conjure enough intelligence to murmur something incoherent.

"Okay, Rumple," she said, the way her accented voice pronounced his nickname making him feel strangely warm. She carefully took his arm so it wrapped around her shoulders.

"You've had a long trip. Let's get you to bed." She stood up and he leaned heavily on her, though he didn't mean to. She stumbled once, but then adjusted, and the two of them began to walk. He was grateful the alcohol was affecting him right then, because it was the only thing that stopped him from realizing that he looked like Bambi learning how to walk.

"What happened to you?" she asked, but he remained silent a she led him to his bedroom. He pushed open the door, not even realizing that she had never actually been inside his chambers before. He was relieved to feel the incredibly soft mattress beneath him as he laid down, closing his eyes. He'd forgotten Belle was even there until-

"Isn't this Baelfire?"

Rumplestiltskin looked up then, managing to stop the room from spinning just long enough to see what Belle was holding. It was his portrait of Bae from the nightstand, and seeing her gentle fingers stroke the frame made his blood boil. She was standing in front of that chipped cup, not noticing it all.

"Put that down!" he roared, and she shrieked, backing away when he stood from his bed. He slammed her body roughly against the stone walls, trapping her by her wrists above her head.

"Do you think it is _nice_ to touch other peoples' things?" he asked, his voice high, mocking and _cruel._ "Do you think just because you live here that all of these things are yours? Because they're _not!_"

"Stop!" she exclaimed, struggling against him. She managed to arch away from the wall but he forced her against it again, making her cry out in shock.

"_No one touches my things!_" he bellowed, and Belle's wrist slipped from his. Her quick reflexes worked against him, and he felt her hand slap him hard across the face. He did not release her other arm and she did not try to budge, both of them standing still in the shock of what had just happened. The attack seemed to have cleared his head just enough, and that dark voice whispered in his ear once again.

_Punish her._

"If you strike me again, it will be your last," he warned her. His voice was quiet now, but threatening. Belle said nothing, her gaze just as intense as his, no regret at all in her expression. His eyes narrowed and he found that he was annoyed by her fiery attitude. He leaned his face in close, their lips almost touching. His gaze flickered to those pink lips, parted just a bit in fright. She tried so hard not to flinch, but at the last second, she turned her head away.

"I could do unspeakable things to you, dearie," he whispered. "I could have my way with you, if I wanted to. You are mine _forever_, after all, to care for my _needs_ as I see fit. What would you do if I tried?" Belle was trembling now, and he inhaled deeply, drawing strength from her distress as the alcohol plunged him further down this dark spiral.

"You wouldn't," she said, though uncertainly. "You wouldn't want to take a woman like that."

"I could _make_ you want me," he hissed. "I could make you crave things with me that you have always been taught to _wait _for. To _share_ with your true love _– _your Prince Charming."

"You'd make yourself my Prince Charming?" she asked, twisting his words. Her bold words should have angered him but they made him laugh maniacally, his lips curving into a sick little smile.

"Right now, more than anyone, you should know that I'm not a man."

"Yes you are," Belle said, and she dared to push against him. He still did not let her move from the wall, so all she had succeeded in doing was pressing her body flush against his and send his mind reeling.

"It's why you brought me here, isn't it? You're lonely. Any man would be." She was doing that thing again – that thing where she pushed him past his limits, to see how far he would allow her to go. It was how she had gotten to know him better, always pushing her limits, never afraid to be her fiery self in front of the Dark One. If she pushed too far, she would gracefully accept the consequence and give him his space. Every time she pushed him, it affected him because she always hit so close to home.

Rumplestiltskin released her, running a hand through his hair before pointing to the door.

"Get out," he said, but she actually took a step towards him now.

"No!" Belle exclaimed, stepping closer. "You said you could make me, so make me!" Rumplestiltskin's eyes narrowed - she was calling his bluff. She was challenging him. He took a drunken step back, the alcohol working against his favour tonight. She was fearless, her bright blue eyes shining even though they were narrowed dangerously.

"Come on, then," she egged him on. "You're not a man, so fine! Why would you have to worry about my feelings? Do it! Make me want you, Rumplestiltskin. Make me _want _to tend to your every whim, your every desire." He had never seen her this intense - his cruelty had never managed to rile her up like this before. She was an expert at saying hurtful things and storming away - not conflict. He'd never experienced her fighting conflict head on before. He could think of no way to keep his power over the situation, so he said nothing.

"I knew it," Belle said, and he suddenly grew very angry with the satisfaction in her eyes. "I knew you were too good to do any of that."

And then Rumplestiltskin was on her again with a suppressed roar, shoving her arms behind her back and clasping her wrists together, his strong grip serving as a makeshift hancuff. He would show her how he was the very _opposite _of good. He felt her chest press against his, heaving heavy, nervous breaths. She struggled only a bit but he overpowered her, a sneer on his face as she glared at him.

"Don't _tempt_ me," he growled, bringing his face so close to hers he could almost feel her lips brush against his. Belle looked him directly in the eye, not faltering under his intense gaze. Then, without warning, she leaned forward and crushed her lips to his. Something exploded within him, starting from his core and soaring out to the ends of his limbs. He felt strong but weak, and that sliver of weakness was enough to make him shove her roughly away as he gasped for air. He stumbled away from her until his back hit the wall. However difficult it was to push her away, it was a thousand times more difficult to will the power to stay and not flee his body. When he looked down at his hands, he saw them flicker between smooth peach skin and green scales with black nails, Belle watching him like a hawk.

"Now now, dearie," he gasped, trying to regain his composure when he was certain he was still the Dark One. "I may look like a man, I may talk like a man. In all elements other than skin and eye colour, I may _seem _like a man, especially to a naive woman such as yourself who always has to try and see the best in people." She said nothing, looking at him through furrowed brows.

"But _that_, my dear Belle," he said, pressing himself against the wall as he pointed to her swollen lips, "is one thing that a man can do that I cannot." It was why he was always so transfixed by her lips; why he always glanced at them. He regretted not kissing her every day he'd known her, when he'd been able to. When he'd been the wool spinner. Now he could not risk it, knowing how strong true love's kiss could be if Bae had been right all those years ago. Barely a second against her lips and he'd felt almost all his energy drain. With his feelings from the past creeping up to the present, he knew he would never be able to kiss her like he had all those years ago. Not if he wanted to find Bae. Rumplestiltskin was watching Belle now, taking in her expression and finally realizing what was hidden behind her stare:

Recognition.

"How do I know you?" she asked breathlessly, and he felt his heart ache.

"You don't." It was a simple answer, and as gracefully as a tipsy man could, he stepped aside, gesturing to his door and silently urging her to leave.

_But, _he thought as he watched her walk away, _one day, you will._

* * *

Rumplestiltskin was spinning at the wheel the next morning, more grateful for magic than ever when he was able to get rid of his headache with a simple wave of the hand. Belle was in the room, and she'd sensed his bad mood, so she was silent, taking extra care as she dusted his collection. She didn't even pry or speak of last night's events, just being his wonderful, angelic Belle and giving him his space. He'd woken up from another nightmare, and there wasn't a minute that had gone by that day when he wasn't thinking about his son.

But of course, _she _had to make it worse.

He felt the quiver in energy before Regina had even stepped through his doors. She rudely swung the doors wide open, and he could tell by her giggle that she was pleased she had been able to remove his locking spell.

"Flimsy locks," she sighed with that falsely innocent undertone. "I have a deal to discuss – a certain mermaid."

Rumplestiltskin didn't look up from his wheel.

"I'm not dealing today."

Regina walked up to him then, her eyebrow twitching slightly in annoyance at his unwillingness to help her.

"Are you angry with me? What is it this time?" He turned his head in response, but his body language remained closed, his back still facing her.

"Believe it or not, your Majesty, but not everything is about you." Regina pursed her lips, letting it affect her for only a moment before she stood up straight again and turned to Belle for amusement instead.

"So the rumours are true," she said, her blood red lips smirking. "The Dark One _has_ become both a Master _and_ a Lover."

"What?" Belle squeaked, and Rumplestiltskin banged his fist impatiently against the top of his wheel.

"Belle," he said sternly. "Would you excuse us for a moment?"

"But-"

"Go!" He sent her a meaningful look. Belle glanced uncertainly at Regina, but after a moment she exited the room, carefully shutting the doors behind her.

"We used to know each other so well, your Majesty," Rumplestiltskin said darkly, facing Regina now. "Has it really come down to this? To you spying on me through my mirrors?"

"It is not you I have seen," Regina said innocently without verbally admitting that she had, indeed, been spying. "It's that girl who likes to pretty herself up for you, quietly assuring her reflection that each day is going to be a good day."

"Oh, good," Rumplestiltskin said snidely, standing up now. "So now that we're being honest with each other, let's remember how things go around here, shall we?" It didn't matter that Regina was taller in her impractically high shoes. He didn't need height to intimidate people. He had dark magic; he had pure power. Regina's lips pressed into a grim line as she surveyed him, her expression shifting so it looked like she had smelled something foul.

"I'm the one with the power, so you stay away from Belle. You stay away from _here_, if you know what's good for you. You know how to reach me, you know that I will come to you, but so long as Belle is living under _my _roof, under _my _protection, you stay far away from this castle, do you understand me? I will always be more powerful than you, dearie, and _she_," he said, pointing towards the doors Belle had just exited through, "is never going to change that."

Regina glanced at the doors, then back at Rumplestiltskin, that haunting smile on her face.

"We shall see."

* * *

**A/N: **And that wraps up Chapter 6 – hope you enjoyed it all the lovely little Rumbelle interactions! Next chapter, Gaston will make a very sudden return from his life as a rose, a certain character that favours the colour red will be making an appearance, and Rumplestiltskin will reach a breaking point. All you have to do is leave a review! Thanks for reading! :)


	7. Aspirations of a Fairy

When You Wish Upon a Star

Summary: Belle French is no longer happy in Storybrooke, wanting more than what life has to offer. One night, a wish upon a star brings her to a far-off land where there are ogres, werewolves and other beasts. Thankfully, she also happens upon a wool spinner and his son. (AU)

**A/N: **Hello! Lots of references from the "Dreamy" episode in this one, as well as a concept from "7:15am." I have included a fun little cookie from the Swan Princess, and a tiny portion from one of the promos released for 2x16 (not a plot revealer for the show, just some dialogue at the very end of the chapter)! The Rumbelle shippers who've seen it should know which one I'm talking about!

**Guest: **We're almost there! Hang in there!

**TeamTHEFT: **You did what?! Thank you so much for the _huge_ compliment! You re-read my story, _and _promoted it in your own? Thank you endlessly! I've seen your most recent story on the front page before; it's quite the success, and very different! I haven't had a chance to read it, as right now I'm juggling between my full-time job and writing. I literally write every spare moment I can get, including my lunch breaks.

**Andi88: **Thank you so much! You know what? You'll probably be able to properly gauge when Belle will regain her memories after this chapter. ;)

**Electryone: **I hope you like this chapter! Since the last chapter was so Rumbelle centered, I've brought in some other characters that will spice this up a bit!

**MyraValhallah: **Hehe! Soon, but not quite!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Once Upon a Time.

* * *

Chapter 7: Aspirations of a Fairy

"Careful!"

Nova could already hear the Blue Fairy calling to her, even when she was still a good distance away. She sighed, frowning a bit as she struggled to hold the weight of the year's supply of fairy dust. She was only half-listening when she landed, the older fairy going on once again about how the magical dust was so precious.

"I know," Nova sighed.

"Next year, you'll be doing this alone," the Blue Fairy warned her. Her eyes widened a bit as she looked up to her mentor.

"I'll still be picking up dust?" Nova asked, frowning. "I thought I'd be a Fairy Godmother by then." The Blue Fairy laughed. It was quiet, lilting – and rather condescending.

"Oh, Nova. You really are a dreamer."

"But I've been carrying around fairy dust for as long as I can remember," she protested. "I really should be able to be a Fairy Godmother by now, don't you think?"

"Perhaps if you had not been so presumptuous all those years ago, you would be."

"I did that for their own good," Nova protested immediately, fluttering her wings a bit with a huff. Over the years, this had become a very sensitive topic with her. How could one novice mistake lead to such a long repentance?

"That wisher was being abused by her mother, and longed for another life where she would be loved by those she was closest to, not harmed! We knew she was meant to be born here, so I brought her back-"

"You took a daughter from her mother," the Blue Fairy interjected.

"The disappearance made her mother realize the error of her ways, and they've reconciled since then," Nova defended. "And that wool spinner needed someone for his son at the time; he wished so hard for a mother-"

"No," the Blue Fairy corrected. "He wished for his son's _actual _mother to come back because he was afraid no one else would love him. You misinterpreted his wish, which is very common for aspiring fairy godmothers."

"But my wisher _did _love him! Belle was more of a mother to the that man's son than his real mother ever was."

"Regardless," the Blue Fairy said sharply, "It was not your place. You were an apprentice, not a real Fairy Godmother. Unfortunately, that means you are still making up for your rashness in acting without authority. Look at what has happened since – that _wool spinner _has become the Dark One, and he's taken Belle from the life you worked so hard to give her. If you hadn't brought her here, none of this would have happened."

Nova frowned, growing silent now. The Blue Fairy sighed, placing a dainty hand on her shoulder.

"Listen. You have such good intentions, Nova. You just need the experience to determine when it is appropriate to grant a wish. You made a mistake, but you made it in good heart."

Nova nodded, but it did not wipe the frown from her face.

"Unfortunately, the Council of the Fairies has decided that we need to correct the situation."

"What?" Nova blurted out, looking up to her. "I thought you already did – after her recovery, Belle wished for a cure to her heartache. You gave her a potion made from the waters beneath Pont Chagrin. She's already forgotten her time with Rumplestiltskin-"

"Yet here she is again, except now he's the Dark One! Let's just pray he never finds out what we did; who knows who he would give such a potion to? If he knows there is a concoction that can make a person forget the source of their heartache, he will take advantage of it for his dark dealings." The Blue Fairy's voice rose, which was such a rare occurrence that Nova opted to remain silent. "Next thing you know, Snow White will forget about Prince Charming, and we'll never rid ourselves of the Evil Queen!"

Nova frowned and bit her lip. The Blue Fairy seemed to notice she was losing her temper, so she took a deep breath to calm herself.

"The Orange Fairy has granted a wish to Red Riding Hood and told her of the village of Faemil, which will provide her with enough supplies to help get her town through the month's Wolfstime. It is the same village that Belle will be visiting tomorrow night to gather straw for the Dark One. I have advised her to make it in her best interests that Red and Belle meet. Belle will break the rules of Rumplestiltskin's curse by doing something other than gathering straw, and he will cast her out, as his feelings will prevent him from doing much worse."

"What?!" Nova exclaimed again, horrified. "Why would you cause such a rift between true loves?"

"Belle was never meant to be here," The Blue Fairy reminded her. "Once Rumplestiltskin has cast her out, she will go back to her family, where she was meant to be. We aren't meant to meddle, Nova. We are meant to help the future unravel the way it was meant to."

"We are fairies, we don't _see _the future. You don't know that Rumplestiltskin won't harm her! Something's going to happen, Blue Fairy, I feel it; this is wrong! They belong together!"

"That is not your decision." The Blue Fairy began to fly away then, leaving Nova with a warning:

"If you try and intervene again, Nova, you _will _lose your wings, and you will _never _become a Fairy Godmother."

* * *

_Knock, knock, knock._

Rumplestiltskin lowered the parchment he was reading, looking up from his work.

"Come in."

Belle shyly opened the door to the study. Both of them had been a little tense ever since the night she'd tried to kiss him, Rumplestiltskin especially. He was kinder in some ways, knowing that she still cared for him even though she'd forgotten all about how they'd been a strange, unofficial family with Bae. But he was also colder in other ways, the threat of Regina enough to keep him from getting too close.

"Hello, Belle. What can I do for you?" Belle walked in, clasping her hands together behind her back as she walked. Her gaze roamed his study, lingering on a shelf. It was completely full of vials except for one spot that only held the drawing of a heart.

"I just… I- I don't mean to bother you, but…"

Sometimes she stuttered too much. Rumplestiltskin shifted so he was facing her, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes?" he encouraged.

"You're going on a trip tomorrow, right?" Belle asked. Rumplestiltskin nodded slowly.

"Yes – I'll be leaving in the morning, but I'll be back late. You should arrange to have supper without me after you return from Faemil."

Belle bit her lip, shrugging her shoulders.

"Well, if that's the case, do you maybe want to hang out right now?"

"Hang out," Rumplestiltskin repeated, confused. "What do you mean?" He'd never heard the expression before. He briefly pictured Belle hanging upside-down from a tree, like she had years ago when they'd gone hunting for wonderberries.

"You know – chat," she clarified. "Just… be in the same room, even?"

Rumplestiltskin glanced at his desk, stacked with various contracts, but he nodded.

"I suppose." He escorted her back down to the grand hall, taking a seat at the wheel while she sat in the nearby chair. Feeling a bit antsy, he began to spin, never really comfortable with sitting still for longer than a few minutes. Belle was watching him, her head tilted slightly to the side as she smiled.

"You remind me of someone."

"Oh?" he said, though he wasn't intrigued enough to look up from his thread. "Who might that be?"

"I don't know. You, probably."

Well, that certainly was enough to get his attention. Rumplestiltskin looked up, stopping the wheel but keeping his hands on the thread.

"What?" Perhaps he hadn't heard her right. Belle smiled, blushing a bit.

"You've been avoiding me so much the past few days I've had a lot of time to think. That night when we kissed," – Rumplestiltskn noticed her blush at saying the word – "You began to change. You looked different and I _saw _something in you that I haven't before. Something I recognize."

He said nothing, frightened of getting his hopes up for nothing. He had no idea how she could sit there so calmly, smiling and slightly coy, tucking a curl of hair behind her ear.

"I've met you before, haven't I? That's why you brought me here."

He couldn't say anything yet. He tried to be reserved, but his tone, wavering ever so slightly, betrayed him.

"What makes you think that?"

Belle walked up to the wheel, gently removing the spindle from his hands and seating herself directly in front of him on the wheel. She placed a hand on his knee, wanting to establish contact – it helped her gauge whether or not she was being too bold.

"When I came here with you, you acted strange, repeating your name and asking questions about a boy I'd met named Baelfire. Only – I never remembered you being anywhere near him or me." Rumplestiltskin continued to watch Belle, saying very little. This must have made her self-conscious, as she fidgeted under his stare.

"It sounds silly, but I always noticed little things that don't quite seem to fit with what I know about you. You react so intensely to things that would mean nothing to others, and you treat me differently."

"You _are _my caretaker," he reminded her. Belle smiled; she could not feel his knee twitching or tensing beneath her touch, so she continued.

"Perhaps before I was… something else to you?"

"No," Rumplestiltskin answered too quickly. "Every moment we've spent together on this earth, you've been my caretaker."

"Well," Belle said, leaning back in her seat then, her fingers raising to tilt his chin up and look at her, "What about everything else then? Am I right? Have I met you before?"

Rumplestiltskin paused, debating whether or not this was something he should tell her. He'd wanted her to remember him ever since he'd seen her again, but on her own terms, not his. But looking at her patient, angelic face, he knew he could not deny her the truth.

"Yes."

A small smile crept up on Belle's face, pleased that she had been clever enough to figure it out. Her posture straightened and she inched closer to him, their knees touching now. Her eyes were wide and curious, and she did not seem frightened by the fact she had met the Dark One before.

"How? Did we make a deal before too? Did I mess up – is that why I don't remember you?"

"No," Rumplestiltskin answered softly, shaking his head. "I've no idea why you don't remember me, but we knew each other well before all of… this." He gestured around to the Dark Castle, and to himself, dressed elaborately in a golden vest with a strange, pointed collar.

"So… are you Bae's father?" Belle guessed again, and he nodded. She must have figured out as much from his earlier inquiries of Bae, and the portrait she'd seen of him in his chambers.

"Yes," he said again, and Belle's hand returned to his knee, giving it a squeeze.

"How is he?"

"I wouldn't know," he answered bitterly. "I lost him." He knew that if she truly remembered him, she would have been much more devastated by the news. She was the only person alive who knew how much he'd loved Bae – how hard he'd worked to keep him safe and happy despite their poverty. Belle just looked at him with sympathy.

"I'm sorry. He was a lovely boy."

"All of this," Rumplestiltskin said, holding up a dark hand and looking at it, "Was for him. I wanted to have the power to protect my son. They were going to take him from me. I was afraid of losing him."

Belle nodded, licking her lips a tad nervously before continuing.

"And – what of us? Why were we separated?"

"I was trying to keep you safe from all that," he said, closing his eyes. Several emotions started rising to the surface, and his voice wavered again.

"I pushed you away – I didn't want the Duke's men chasing after you, too. You were searching for your way back home, and your best chance at finding them was by staying away from us. But they ended up taking you instead, and…"

"You loved me," Belle said, and just saying the words made her smile. She leaned in closer, and he did not move away as she rested her forehead against his. He did not acknowledge the comment.

"I loved you, right?" she asked, but he didn't reply. He honestly had no idea if she'd felt the same way.

"That's why we're both here, right now. No matter what happened between us, we found our way back to each other without even knowing the other still existed. Whatever separated us – it couldn't keep us apart, in this world or the next." Rumplestiltskin felt almost human again despite his strange, dark features. Just listening to Belle speak in such a way was enough to lift his spirit and straighten his shoulders. He looked into her eyes, their faces so close. She leaned in again, and, hating himself, he leaned away.

"I can't," he told her regretfully. "I'll never find Bae again without these powers." They'd both been there – they'd both seen how her kiss affected him, almost draining him of his magic just a few nights ago. Belle just smiled at him, cupping his face in her hands and keeping his head still. She leaned in again, placing a small kiss on his nose. He closed his eyes as her lips traveled up his jawline, caressing his ear before going back down to his neck.

"Belle," he sighed her name, pulling her close to him as she nestled her head in the crook of his neck. She smiled, resting in his embrace.

"Beauty and the Beast," she said happily, and he blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"I've heard of Snow White, of Cinderella, of Rumplestiltskin…" She smiled and looked up at him then. "In my world, we told stories, and you were all in them. When I was brought here, I wondered if I'd ever had a story, and I had my suspicious, but I know it for sure now. Beauty and the Beast is mine."

"What kind of land tells stories about _us?_" he asked with displeasure, not entirely sure how he felt knowing that people from another world told stories about him.

"A land without magic," Belle answered wistfully, and his eyes widened.

"What?" He ruined their gentle moment, sitting up straighter. He took her by the shoulders and held her at arm's length to make sure he heard her right.

"Storybrooke doesn't have magic?" he asked, and Belle shook her head.

"No. Why?"

Rumplestiltskin began to laugh; it started quietly but evolved into something rather manic. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, and she returned the gesture despite her confusion.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because I have been scouring the lands to find the world without magic where Bae resides, and it turns out he's been in your world this entire time! When I return tomorrow evening, my dear Belle, I will work a thousand times harder to find a way to get us there. Together, we will find Bae, and you will finally get to go home."

* * *

Belle was in good spirits as she walked down to Faemil to fetch some straw. She honestly had no idea how Rumplestiltskin could do so much business but still manage to turn all of it into gold. He had more than enough wealth than he could ever spend, but still, he kept turning that wheel. When she arrived, she handed the same old woman a satchel of coins in exchange for straw, ignoring the looks as she passed people by. Not even all of their stares could put her in a bad mood. It seemed the rumour of her being Rumplestiltskin's caretaker had spread. Every time she arrived, she felt like the Dark One himself with how much everyone avoided her, and it never made her want to stay for very long.

Although she was content, she was tired, exhausted from how late she stayed up the previous night and how early she'd woken that morning to bid Rumplestiltskin fair well before his day-long trip. She'd barely gotten any sleep, the both of them too busy talking of times she could not remember and a plan to rescue a boy that had been lost a land without magic.

"You look drained," said a kind voice, and Belle looked up into the eyes of a beautiful maiden with long, ebony locks and an innocent smile beneath a beautiful red cape. It was the first time someone had actually approached her, and Belle could see why. Her garb was different, labeling her as someone from out of town, passing through. She probably had no idea who she was.

"That would be the generous way to put it," Belle replied, and the woman giggled.

"My Granny knows of a great drink to awaken the soul before a long journey," she said, "if you wouldn't mind joining me."

"No money, sorry," Belle said dismissively. Rumplestiltskin only ever gave her enough to buy the straw, to discourage her from wandering the town.

"Oh," the girl said, stopping her from leaving, "The market here was having a sale. I have enough to cover us if you would like to join me."

"Why would you do that for someone you don't even know?" Belle asked, arching a brow. The girl hesitated, as though she didn't have a good enough reason for stopping her on the streets.

"Because I've a long journey ahead, and I'm in need of a friend."

The girl's honesty was brutal. Belle glanced in the direction of the Dark Castle, but after a moment, she extended a hand.

"I'm Belle."

"People here call me Red," she answered in relief, shaking her hand firmly.

"Red," Belle repeated, and the story of Little Red Riding Hood flashed through her mind. "It's lovely to meet you."

She was suddenly very wary of Rumplestiltskin's enchantment upon her, and as they walked through the town she became aware of every sound. The Dark One and her may be on good terms now, but that did not change the fact that she was only supposed to fetch the straw and return to the castle, lest "bad things happen." Belle jumped whenever something seemed out of the ordinary, afraid the magic would strike her for not immediately returning. She had every intention of returning though, and she hoped that would be enough to keep her safe. Besides – he was still out on business, anyway. That made this okay, right?

"I can't be long," Belle warned. "I've a long journey and I'd like to begin it before the sun has set."

"Me too," Red agreed. She handed the bartender a few coins before claiming one of the smaller tables at his establishment.

"What brings you to this town?" Belle asked, and though Red smiled, her eyes were guarded.

"My people are struggling with Wolfs time," she said, "So I am here to pick up supplies."

"Oh, I've heard of your town. I'm so sorry for everything that's happening," Belle said, her gaze sympathetic. Rumplestiltskin had shared stories of deals that he felt would not make her weak of heart, and many of the deals had been from a village that desperately wanted to keep their children safe from a murderous wolf. Red nodded sadly.

"It's not the most ideal time our town has had, but it has to look up from here, right?"

When their drinks arrived, it really had done the trick. It was sweet and buttery, and the liquid made her feel warm all the way down to the tips of her toes. She could overhear all kinds of conversations, the one catching her interest the most coming from a table of dwarves. She snuck a glance and saw one of them extremely put out, but with a dreamy look in his eye. She recognized the expression immediately: he was in love.

"- Granny means well," Red was saying, finishing a story that Belle hadn't heard, "But she's so protective. I'll never understand why." Though wary at first, she had taken a liking to Red Riding Hood, mostly sitting back and watching as she told tales with a lively, attractive smile. Whenever Red tried to ask a question about her, Belle deflected it, not wanting to speak of Rumplestiltskin or her deal with him.

"Wow," Red whispered suddenly with a grin, noticing where Belle was looking. "Dwarves! I was hoping to meet one on my trip - I've never had the fortune of seeing one before."

Belle was glad Red wasn't offended that she hadn't been listening, nodding and smiling as she turned to look at them; they were all sharing drinks after a long day at work. One day these guys would be following Snow White around a tiny house, she noted, when she counted seven of them.

"I can't eat, I can't sleep – maybe I should have Doc take a look at me," the dreamy dwarf said with a heavy sigh. He looked gruff, and were it not for his kind personality, she might have assumed he was Grumpy.

"You're going to trust a dwarf that got his medical degree from a pick axe? I wouldn't worry about it. Dwarves don't get sick. It must be in your head," one replied, and Belle giggled.

"It's not in his head – it's in his heart. You're in love," she said to the dwarf.

"Well, that's impossible," the older dwarf harrumphed. "Dwarves can't fall in love."

"Trust me – I know love, and you're in it."

"What's it like?" the other dwarf asked, his eyes wide as he looked at them. Belle opened her mouth to reply but Red jumped in.

"It's the most wonderful and amazing thing in the world. Love is hope. It fuels our dreams." The two women looked at each other from across the table, smiling. It seemed they'd found a conversation they could both agree on.

* * *

"My home is on the way to your town," Belle said when they left the pub, "if you wouldn't mind walking with me. I could keep you company on your journey in exchange for the drinks you've purchased."

"Of course!" Red seemed delighted by the idea of a walking companion, and it wasn't long before the two women resumed their journeys. She saw the way men looked at Red – it was the same way they'd used to look at her, before her name had been attached to Rumplestiltskin's. It was a relief to be with someone else; to be with someone that had no connection to the man holding her captive.

"It was adorable how that dwarf didn't even realize that fairy had asked him out," Red said, giggling with girlish glee. Belle nodded enthusiastically.

"He was so clueless – it was adorable. I'm glad we helped him figure it out; they're going to be so happy together."

The day quickly turned to night, and as they walked through the forest, Belle had to squint in the darkness. Red seemed at home though, walking through the trees as easily as if the sun were up. She trailed behind her a little, a combination of her much shorter legs and her poor skills at wading through the darkness. Belle's cloak was pretty, but very thin, and she realized she should have dressed warmer for the weather. Winter was fast approaching, and she was still wearing her Autumn dress.

"Oh, you're shivering," Red said with a frown.

"N-no, I'm fine," Belle replied, shaking her head. "Just have to get used to the temperature, that's all. It was so warm in the pub."

"Wear this for now – I'll take it back when we get back to your home." A sudden warmth draped over her shoulders, and Belle closed her eyes in gratitude.

"Thank you, Red. I-"

Belle halted in her tracks when she heard a howl so loud it threatened to deafen her. She fell over her own feet when she saw the gorgeous girl from before had been replaced with a large, bloodthirsty wolf. Wait – Red Riding Hood was a _werewolf? _Nothing in her fairy tale books had mentioned that!

She screeched as the wolf's jaws snapped at her, and she fell to the ground in fear, scrambling backwards.

Knowing it was the only shot she had, she cried out as loudly as she could:

"_Rumplestiltskin!_"

* * *

His heart skipped a beat.

It was a random occurrence, one that made Rumplestiltskin feel uneasy and anxious. He clutched at his chest, wondering why he had been so suddenly overcome with emotion. He was waiting in Regina's castle, his foot twitching impatiently. She was at least twenty minutes late, and he made the decision that if she were not there in another ten, he was leaving.

He'd already claimed his strange, rather gruesome wooden marionette dolls, and honestly all he wanted to do was go home. Sleep in his own bed. Enjoy the company of a woman who was so beautiful it sometimes hurt to look at her. Regina was officially keeping him from that, but he had been out doing deals all day. May as well see what she wanted.

Two minutes before her time was up, Regina walked into the room, and he snorted with derision.

"Took your sweet time, dearie," he said. "I would not let most people get away with what you've just pulled. My time is precious, and you've wasted much of it."

"Rumple," she said, and the shocked way in which she said his name put him on his guard.

"Surely you haven't forgotten about our appointment?" Rumplestiltskin asked. Regina grimly shook her head.

"No, I simply assumed you wouldn't have come."

"And why on Earth would you assume that?" The Evil Queen paused, and it was not often that she let him see her surprised. Her dark eyebrows raised, and after a few seconds, an evil smile crept its way back onto her lips.

"My, my – you really don't know."

"Know what, dearie? Know what?" Rumplestiltskin barked, and she laughed, reveling in his ignorance.

"My sentry and I were in the village of Faemil today," Regina said, and his eyes narrowed, knowing immediately what this was going to centre around.

"And?" he urged her, but Regina took her sweet time in speaking, relishing in the power she held over him right then.

"We were innocently riding by when a traveling salesman ran into the village square proclaiming there had been a wolf attack. Blood everywhere, he said, but people were too afraid to go find the body. It _is _wolfstime, after all-" but he hadn't even let her finish, disappearing in a cloud of smoke.

Rumplestiltskin appeared along the trail, the magic helping him practically fly down the road at an impressive speed, his eyes hungrily searching for any sight of Belle. She was not near his castle, so he continued towards Faemil, his breath hitching in his throat when he eventually spotted a crumpled heap of blue fabric pushed to the side. As he ran to her, he saw claw marks on various tree trunks and large paw prints in the dirt. Regina hadn't been lying, for once. A wolf had been here.

His heart was pounding now, tormented as he grew closer and closer to Belle's unconscious form. Her basket of straw was sitting bloodied some feet away from her, and he choked back a sob when he smelled the metallic stench of blood. He may have had to cope with what he thought was her death all those years ago, but he'd never had to _see _anything. He'd just assumed the worst. Now, he could see her, and he could see she wasn't moving.

"Please, no," he whispered to himself. "Please, please no…"

But fortune was never on his side. Rumplestiltskin let out a strangled cry when he saw Belle's beautiful face covered in dry blood, her eyes closed, pink lips slightly parted. He gathered her into his arms, sobbing and heaving uncharacteristically, any obligation to be the formidable Dark One dissipating when he felt Belle's blood spill onto his own clothes. He forced himself to swallow his grief, putting on a brave face as he finally took a good look at Belle.

Most of the blood had come from four large gashes that indicated the wolf had swatted at her shoulder. The attack had sprayed the blood into her face and dripped it down onto her dress. _Strange,_ he thought as he looked her over now. Didn't the wolves usually devour the entire carcass?

His lips twitched downward at the thought of Belle's beautiful form being a 'carcass,' but he continued inspecting her, watching as her head rolled back, the hood falling and revealing her cold, pale face.

Something was wrong.

There wasn't one bite mark on her. Rumplestiltskin swept her up into his arms, something he had been unable to do when he'd had no magic to cure his lame leg. Looking around the forest, he noticed the wolf's paw prints retreating in the dirt, and then-

Shoe prints. They were of a peculiar shape, looking like one dot next to a triangle. His eyes narrowed. Regina's high heels. She'd been here. She hadn't just _overheard_ the news, she'd been here to experience it all herself. Expected him to hear of the attack before she returned home. He closed his eyes, concentrating, and a breeze blew by the stench of her inadequate dark magic.

That witch had set him up.

She'd done this. The wolf was very real, but Regina had stopped the attack, faking Belle's death instead, most likely because Belle was more useful to Regina alive than dead. Regina wanted to torture him. Perhaps she was watching him at that very moment, during his weakest hour. The thought made him pale; he couldn't remain out in the open. He closed his eyes, reappearing in Belle's bedroom at the Dark Castle. He laid her on her mattress, quickly using magic to close up her wounds.

"There, there, all better," he whispered desperately, devastated when she didn't immediately wake. How much heartache could one person take? He'd lost everyone important to him, and now he had been alive so long that he was at risk of losing the same person twice in one lifetime. Belle did not breathe; she did not move, and everything in him told him that she was dead to the world.

The wool spinner inside him refused to believe it. The father of the optimistically brave Bae still had some hope. They had come too far to just lose it all now. Just yesterday her lips had been brushing against his skin. Rumplestiltskin slowly waved his hand over Belle's face, and his hand grew warm with the sense of magic.

She was under a Sleeping Curse.

"_No!_" he cried, standing up now and knocking over the first piece of furniture he could find. This was why Regina had done it – to torture him. There were very few people in this land that knew true love's kiss was the only thing strong enough to break any curse. Regina was one of them, and she also knew that he was unwilling to break his own curse because it would leave him powerless to find Bae. There he was again, torn between someone he loved and his _power_, conflicted as to which was the right path.

It was one thing to be on the constant search for Bae, but he didn't think he had the patience or the willpower to keep Belle under the sleeping curse, unconscious in his Castle until Bae was found. Finding his son was the only reason he could think of to give up his powers, and that would mean he could freely kiss Belle, lifting both their curses.

But he couldn't wait that long. He couldn't just watch her lifeless body for decades, wasting away while he put his personal agenda first. They were supposed to go to Storybrooke together once he'd found a way to get there! He ran into the grand hall, taking his old walking staff and throwing a tantrum to release his rage. He broke everything in sight, from his china cabinet to the contents within. He would get Regina back for this if it was the last thing he did.

Running to his tea tray on the table, Rumplestiltskin threw all of the dishes against the wall as well, stopping at the chipped cup. Then, quite suddenly, his gaze fell upon the rose in the vase, still bright and alive due to Belle's extensive care.

An idea struck.

Rumplestiltskin snapped his fingers and a rather dirty man was left lying on his dining room table. He wore no shoes, and he looked exhausted, but well enough. It seemed all the care and water Belle had been giving him had been enough to keep him alive. He supposed roses that had once been people lived longer than regular flowers.

"You," he growled, grabbing the man by the shoulder and dragging him onto his feet. "You're coming with me."

He shoved Gaston into Belle's room, and the nobleman's eyes widened when he saw Belle lying there on the bed caked in dry blood.

"What have you done to her?!" he exclaimed, whirling on Rumplestiltskin. Gaston tried to punch him but he stopped his fist, threatening to crush the bones with magic.

"Ever since I've met you, I've known you were a buffoon," he said darkly, "but not this much of one. Your betrothed is sitting there dying and you are trying to attack _me? _Get your priorities in order, you halfwit."

Gaston hesitated, turning to Belle only when he was sure Rumplestiltskin wouldn't harm him while his back was turned.

"What am I supposed to do?" he asked, and the Dark One had to keep his patience in check.

"True love's kiss will break any curse," he said, and it killed him to think of someone else loving Belle as much, if not more, than he did. However, the man had waited more than thirty years to marry her - that had to mean something, right? Understanding the instruction, Gaston got onto one knee beside her bed, stroked her hair, then kissed her.

Rage made the Dark One ball his hands into fists at the tender scene, but he stopped himself from attacking the man who kissed his Belle. He was allowing Gaston to do this, he reminded himself. It might be the only way to wake Belle. Rumplestiltskin may hope Belle's heart lied with him, but Gaston loved Belle, and that might help him if he was the one to do the waking.

"Well?" Rumplestiltskin snarled, walking up to see Belle now. No change. Gaston looked confused too.

"I thought you said it would work," the man with no shoes said. "I thought you said-"

"It should have!" Rumplestiltskin snapped. He had to approach this from another way. He had to make sure Gaston was truly in the right mindset to do this. He had just spent a year as a rose, after all.

"Why do you lo- love her," he asked, stammering the word. "What made you wait so long to marry her? You love her, don't you?"

"Oh, yes," Gaston said, nodding. "Truly." The dedication was satisfying enough for Rumplestiltskin, but he still needed the man to remember _why _he loved her for the kiss to work.

"_Why?_" Rumplestiltskin pressed again. Gaston gestured to her cold, unmoving body.

"She's beautiful. The most beautiful in all the land." Rumplestiltskin stayed silent, waiting for some sort of elaboration. But Gaston was staring at him, and that fury overcame him again.

"_And?_" he demanded, urging him for less superficial reasons. "What else?!"

Gaston blinked, confused.

"What else is there?"

And that was it.

Rumplestiltskin waved his hand and Gaston flew out the window, large shards of glass scattering everywhere. The nobleman's bravery was reduced to a cowardice that could have marveled his own; he was crying out in fear as he clung to the windowsill, afraid of falling to his death. Rumplestiltskin walked over to the now broken window, not even flinching when he saw Gaston's bloodied fingers grasping at the jagged remnants of glass on the frame, refusing to let go despite the pain.

"I don't care if you saved her life," he told the man cruelly. "You don't deserve her if you can't see past her beauty."

"Please!" Gaston begged. "Please, help me up! I'll do anything! _Anything!_" Rumplestiltskin sneered, not even willing to do a deal with a soul as desperate as his. That hate overwhelmed him, and he walked away form the windowsill.

"_No! _Come back, _please!_"

Rumplestiltskin sat at Belle's bedside, gently stroking her cold cheeks. The hatred slowly melted from his expression, his eyes suddenly watering. If he ever did get her to wake, he couldn't imagine the look on her face if he ever told her that he'd killed Gaston in her own room. He glanced back at the window when he heard the man's wailing cries, and after a growl, he stood back up again and grabbed the man's hands. Magic aided him where strength would have otherwise failed and he pulled the big lug back up into the room, letting him drop harshly to the floor. Rumplestiltskin flicked his wrists, and any shards of glass that had been stuck in his own flesh disappeared, wounds closing.

"Get out," Rumplestiltskin said darkly. Gaston furrowed his brow.

"What? You're letting me-?"

"_Get out!"_ He bellowed, and Rumplestiltskin watched as the nobleman ran out the door, tripping over his own feet. Only once he was gone did he return to Belle's side again, a tear rolling down his cheek when he saw just how pale she looked. How he wished he could just kiss her, wake her and still manage to find Bae. How he wished he could-

"Hi!"

Rumplestiltskin jumped just a bit, but he quickly masked the surprise and put on the Dark One's sneer.

"It's rude to drop by unannounced, dearie," he said, forcing his bravado forward. Belle had seen him vulnerable; he wasn't about to let anyone else.

"I'm Nova," the fairy said, "Your fairy godmother - and Belle's."

"… What?"

This must be some kind of joke.

"I've heard your wish," Nova insisted happily, fluttering her wings, "and I am here to help."

"You're here," Rumplestiltskin said slowly, "to help the Dark One wake the caretaker he's holding captive, while managing to retain his powers, superior, dark, or otherwise?"

"No, silly," Nova giggled, simplifying it for him: "I'm here to help the wool spinner wake his true love."

She was just lucky he hadn't zapped her on the spot - if any other stranger had mentioned his past life to him, he would have disposed of them. However, she was intriguing. His eyebrows furrowed as he decided to test her.

"So you're going to grant my wish to kiss Belle without losing my powers?"

"Well, no-"

"Then you're going to wake her yourself so that she and I may continue the search for my son?"

"Erm – no, not really."

"Then what on earth are you doing here, little fairy? Do you know what you're doing at all?"

"Hey!" Nova exclaimed, pointing her tiny finger at him. "I am here out of the goodness of my heart, so why don't you keep yourself in line! True love's kiss can break any curse, right?"

"Right," Rumplestiltskin answered slowly.

"And you can't kiss her, can you?" she confirmed. Rumplestiltskin shook his head.

"Then give her true love's potion. I know you've been trying to bottle it up, following Snow White and Prince Charming around."

"I- I don't have anything they want in exchange for a deal just yet," he said. "I don't have true love's potion." Nova sent him a look of dismay. How did she managed to do that while remaining so… bubbly?

"Rumplestiltskin, you pride yourself on being the most powerful sorcerer in the land but you try to deny the strongest magic that's in front of you. Belle is your true love. You don't need Snow White and Prince Charming for this."

Nova waved her wand and an empty vial appeared in the palm of his hand. She plucked a hair from his head and dropped it in. He watched as she flew over to Belle and plucked one of her hairs as well, mixing it with Rumplestiltskin's. Had the answer really been this simple all along? Had he gone traveling the land in search of true love only for it to have been right under his nose the entire time? His hands trembled as Nova began to stir the mixture, adding water as Rumplestiltskin enchanted the vial, giving it magical properties. For a few moments, nothing happened, and he felt disappointment settle in his gut.

But then the strands of hair lit up, glowing different colours and almost dancing within the vial. His heart began pounding hard in his chest, his throat dry. Leaning forward eagerly over the bed, he used his fingers to gently part Belle's lips, and he poured true love's magic in her mouth. Closing her lips again, he lightly rubbed her throat to encourage that involuntary reflex to swallow. Once the vial was empty, he set it aside, leaning over Belle with wide eyes. It had to work – it _had _to! If this didn't, he didn't know what else could.

"Go on," Nova said gently. "Tell her why you love her."

He felt strange with the fairy there, but he didn't have much time. Drawing in a breath, Rumplestiltskin gently stroked Belle's hair, looking for any sign of consciousness.

"You are a hero who helped her people. You're a beautiful woman who loved an ugly man. Really, really loved me… You find goodness in others, and when it's not there, you create it. You make me want to go back – back to the best version of me, and that's never happened before. So when you wake up, and you don't know who I am, at least I know: that's who you are. And that's why I will always love you."

Rumplestiltskin realized she hadn't moved the entire time he'd spoken. He lowered his head onto her stomach, his arms draped securely over her in the poor semblance of an embrace. He didn't even think to blame that pink fairy this time, too lost in his self-pity and grief that she was not awake.

His tears stained her dress, and he found himself remembering the times he'd shared with a beautiful woman who'd been searching for her home and found him instead.

* * *

**A/N: **Who's ready for the next chapter?! I know I am! If you feel like it, kindly drop me a review, I love reading them!


	8. The Queen, the Imp and the Curse

When You Wish Upon a Star

Summary: Belle French is no longer happy in Storybrooke, wanting more than what life has to offer. One night, a wish upon a star brings her to a far-off land where there are ogres, werewolves and other beasts. Thankfully, she also happens upon a wool spinner and his son. (AU)

**A/N: **Let's start this chapter by rewinding a little bit, and see what happened to Belle after Red's transformation. :) A shout out to all my reviewers and followers, thank you so much for reading the fic! I hope you're still enjoying it - the response to last chapter was amazing! Sorry this took a couple days longer than normal, I was a little under the weather! By the way - I saw someone on the SkyTrain reading my fic on their phone! That was a pretty amazing feeling.

On an entirely unrelated note, you know what was **cruel**? My cable froze in the LAST FIVE MINUTES of Sunday's episode, The Miller's Daughter. TERRIBLE. I had no idea what happened after **** raised the **** above ****'s head. [Censored to avoid spoilers!]

**Stargate533: **I have a feeling you've been waiting for this chapter. :)

**MyraValhallah: **Yes, haha, it seems most do! I think you're going to enjoy this chapter though. ;)

**Guest (1): **Thank you so much! I love writing fanfics, so it's nice to hear you say that. I try to update a few times a week at least, so hopefully you didn't have to wait too long for this update.

**Electyrone: **It really was. It made me actually kind of happy, because Cora was a first love, but her kiss didn't almost break his curse… like Belle's! Yay for Rumbelle being true love! Plus, Corplestiltskin just doesn't have the same ring. ;)

**TeamTHEFT: **I was ECSTATIC for Sunday's episode. I was so impatient. I feel like Sundays are a bittersweet day, in which I am excited for OUAT, but dread the thought of waking up early Monday morning for work.

**Fumblepaws: **Welcome new reader! Glad you're enjoying the story! Were you able to make it all the way up to this chapter?

**Guest (2): **Glad to hear it! Here's more, just as you requested!

**thedoctorsgirl42: **Ooh, I'm sorry! Hope you didn't have to wait too long for the update!

**Rayvah: **Thank you! I can't believe how much I've written in such little time, haha. My chapters for other fics haven't been this long!

**Guest (3): **I think that sentiment can also be applied to the real show!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Once Upon a Time.

* * *

Chapter 8: The Evil Queen, the Wretched Imp and the Dark Curse

Nova flew as fast as her little wings would carry her. It was so late already that there was no way she could stop Red and Belle from meeting. She cursed the Council of the Fairies; it had taken way too long for all of them to go to sleep so she could sneak away. It was understandable, given their job was to grant wishes to those who wished upon their evening star, but it didn't make it any less inconvenient.

She didn't quite have a plan; all she knew was that she couldn't let them be separated again. Their paths crossed a second time after all these years, and to Nova, that signaled they were _meant _to be together. They weren't helping the future unravel, as the Blue Fairy put it. They were meddling with true love!

Dreamy's rugged smile flashed before her eyes, and she smiled to herself, using the image to propel herself forward.

Perhaps she could appear to Rumplestiltskin and manage to make Belle's sentence less severe. Help him see that even though she'd seen someone, she cared enough for him to return. The thought of going behind the Blue Fairy's back and not becoming a Fairy Godmother terrified her; it was what she had been working towards her entire life. But if being a Fairy Godmother meant separating true love, she wanted _none _of it. She would go off with Dreamy and see the world in a beautiful boat instead!

Before all that, however, she needed to fix this. Her heart was racing as she finally saw the village of Faemil, and she closed her eyes, tuning in to all of the nearby wishes.

_I wish I had more gold._

_I wish I could meet a girl._

_I wish I was 21 again._

Among all of the miscellaneous wants and desires, she zeroed in on one particular wish. The voice was pure, and it was one that Nova recognized even after thirty years:

_I wish Rumplestiltskin were here._

Nova followed that wish through the forest, growing colder when she heard a howl close by. It was starting to look like she wouldn't even get a chance to talk to Rumplestiltskin. She couldn't fight off a wolf - she'd barely learned enough about her magic to carry fairy dust across the land without dropping it!

Swallowing her fear, Nova finally caught up; she spotted Belle backing away from a werewolf just off the trail. She nervously extended her wand, trying to think of a spell useful enough for this situation. She winced as Belle cried out after ending up on the receiving end of the wolf's harsh strike.

"Rumplestiltskin, _help!_"

Suddenly a cloud of purple smoke – _dark magic_, she realized immediately – appeared in front of her, and Nova quickly hid behind a tree. Perhaps the Dark One had somehow heard her call!

"How sweet."

Or not. Nova peeked around the tree, and she positively trembled at the sight of the Evil Queen. The woman walked towards Belle, using magic to freeze the wolf in its place.

"How lovely to see the Dark One's mistress out and about tonight. What was your name again - Margie?" This woman's tone was all false kindness with undertones of pure evil.

"Belle," the girl corrected nervously. Nova watched as she stood from the dirt, looking cautious but grateful.

"Thank you for saving me."

"Oh, dear child, of course! I'm not one to abandon a damsel in distress." _Especially not one with such close ties to your nemesis, _Nova found herself thinking, her wings fluttering anxiously.

"Well, nothing in my books say anything about Little Red Riding Hood _being_ the wolf," Belle said, dusting herself off. "Caught me off guard."

"Books?" Regina repeated. "There are books about that young girl?"

Nova swallowed, willing Belle to stay silent. Luckily the girl was clever enough to realize when she'd slipped up, and she gestured towards the Dark Castle on the horizon.

"I should go. Thank you again, I'll mention it to Rumplestiltskin. I wish I could express my gratitude, but he doesn't like it when I'm late, and I still need to tend to my injuries. Excuse me."

Regina caught her wrist, her other hand conjuring a goblet. She held it out to Belle.

"Hold on, Belle, why in such a hurry? I was going to offer you a drink. It's a calming draught, to help you relax before you get there. I could even heal your wounds for you if you stay a bit longer." Belle hesitated, and Nova could see she really wanted to leave. She hated how she had to remain silent, but there was no magic in the land that could overpower the Evil Queen's – save for Rumplestiltskin's. Nova had to be smart about this.

"It tastes like apple cider, so it goes down nice and easy, I assure you," Regina said. Belle's gaze flashed to the goblet.

"Apple?" she repeated, taking a step back. "No – no, thank you."

"Don't like apples?" Regina asked with a small pout.

"I don't like poison," Belle answered boldly. Regina's sickeningly sweet smile disappeared, and she took a step closer to Belle.

"Me? Poison you? Is _that _in your book as well, child?" But Belle didn't answer, and Regina gestured to the wolf. "Keep this in mind – I could unfreeze her at any moment and disappear, and you would be left to fend for yourself. Lying would not be wise. So, answer me this: what book calls the werewolf girl Little Red Riding Hood?"

Belle glanced at the wolf, frozen in all of its bloodthirsty fury, and then back to Regina. Nova heard her wish again.

_I wish Rumplestiltskin were here._

"It's not just one," Belle answered after a long pause. "It's several. Where I come from, there is no magic. No fairies. So people dream about magic and write stories – we call them fairy tales. They outline much of what is in your world, but many of the details, I've learned, are quite inaccurate. They think magic is fiction."

"No magic," Regina repeated, her eyes flashing dangerously. "There is no area in this world that does not support magic. Where do you come from?" Nova's eyes widened, and she silently begged Belle not to answer. But the girl was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and reluctantly, she said, "Storybrooke."

"Wonderful." Satisfied with the information Regina just learned, she held out the goblet again. "Now, will you drink or won't you?"

"Why do you want me to drink so badly?" Belle asked. "What does it matter to you?" Regina smiled maliciously then, and Belle knew the answer without the Queen having to say a word.

"Rumplestiltskin. You're going to harm Rumplestiltskin."

"_Not _if you drink the potion," Regina said, holding out the goblet to Belle again. "The choice is yours."

"But," Belle said, "If I drink this, what will happen to me? To Rumplestiltskin?"

"Well – for one, he'll live if you drink it," she said easily, and though she hadn't directly said it, the threat was implied. Nova desperately wished for Belle not to believe her; didn't she know the Dark One could only die by his own dagger? At Belle's horrified expression, however, she quickly realized that the girl probably hadn't even heard of the dagger. Regina took advantage of her ignorance; she laughed, and it was an evil sound.

"As for you? Well, there's only one way to find out."

* * *

"_Papa! Papa!"_

_Rumplestiltskin limped over to Baelfire's small bed, running a hand through the boy's poofy hair. His round, youthful eyes were wide, and he was smiling, unable to suppress his childish glee._

"_I like her."_

"_Yes, she is very easy to like, isn't she? Don't get too attached, though. She's looking for her home." Their voices were barely above whispers._

"_Yes, Papa. But she's lovely don't you think? It's like having mama home again." Rumplestiltskin's face fell as Bae turned on his side, closing his eyes so he could fall asleep. He forced back the tears, using a hand to brush Bae's hair away from his face._

"_Oh my boy," he said sadly. "You must miss your mother very much." Bae didn't reply, so Rumplestiltskin stood, drawing the curtains around his cot. Belle had finished putting away the dishes and was sitting by the fire reading her book. When she noticed him though, she closed the novel and set it aside._

"_He get to sleep all right?" she asked quietly. Rumplestiltskin nodded._

"_Fairly well, yes."_

"_Listen, I just wanted to thank you for letting me stay with you. Not many would willingly take a stranger to their home, and I just wanted to let you know I'll make it up to you any way that I can. I don't know where I'd be right now if it weren't for you. So… thank you."_

_Rumplestiltskin tensed as Belle wrapped her arms around him in a gentle embrace._

He could remember it like it was yesterday. He was glad it was a more pleasant memory that brought warmth to his heart, as opposed to the regretful experiences that made him wake up in cold sweat. It seemed inviting Belle into his life had been the last good decision he'd made. As he laid there, he swore he could feel Belle's arms around him, her gentle fingers weaving through his hair. He shifted slightly, turning his head away from the orange light that was beating against his eyelids. He nailed down his curtains for a reason – why was Belle so insistent that it was bright everywhere?

_Belle._

Everything came flooding back to him, and he jerked his head up from where he had been laying over her at her bedside. He wasn't dreaming – it was really happening. She was here and she was awake, the room lit up by the flames in her fireplace. Her fingers gently kept his head from rising too fast, and he opened his eyes at the sound of her quiet shush.

"It's all right."

Rumplestiltskin looked up into the face of a very conscious Belle. Her thick curls were draped over one shoulder as she looked down at him, looking tired but nothing short of glorious as her pink lips curved up in a smile. Her blue eyes sparkled in the light, and he feared he was dreaming. He sat up in his chair, ignoring the wild protests of his aching back. Had he been arched over her the entire time? It must be at least midnight by now.

"Belle," he whispered hoarsely, looking her over as though expecting some body part of hers to be broken. "You're awake."

"Seems true love's potion doesn't work as fast as true love's kiss," someone else said, and Rumplestiltskin jumped slightly, forgetting that the pink fairy was still present. He spared the fairy a glance before reaching out to grasp Belle's shoulder, as though confirming she was really there and not a figment of his imagination. Belle giggled quietly, leaning forward and placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"I'm much more than awake, actually. I _remember._"

His heart skipped a beat, and he reached out to her, wincing just a bit when he saw his ugly hand caressing her beautiful face.

"Remember what?" he asked cautiously, and she smiled.

"You. Everything." Rumplestiltskin immediately pulled Belle into an embrace, though the incredulous expression on his face had not quite vanished. He had wanted this; he'd wanted Belle to remember ever since he'd seen her again in Avonlea, but now that she did, he wasn't entirely sure what to do next.

"Rumple," Belle said, "This is Nova. She and I were chatting before you woke up." Forgetting his manners partly because of his curiosity and partly because he was the Dark One, he ignored the introduction.

"Why did you help me?" he asked instead. It was a valid question, even for a fairy. No one wanted to help the Dark One. Nova glanced between them.

"Because I brought Belle here many years ago," she said with a small smile. "And I heard your wishes long before you were the Dark One. It's only right I see you both through to the end."

"_You _brought me here?" Belle asked, sitting up with wide eyes. "But – why didn't you appear when I came here? Why was I alone?"

"I was only an apprentice at the time. I'd already done too much, but I trusted them to find you. I even opened the window to their hut so that Bae would hear Belle's cry. I don't have much longer, I'm afraid. I just wanted to ensure that you two got your happy ending."

Nova closed her eyes, concentrating on a spell to disappear, but Belle stopped her.

"Nova," she said, "Thank you." The fairy giggled, shaking her head.

"I should be thanking _you. _You told a dwarf that I was reaching out to him. Told him to meet me – to go find his love, his hope, his dreams… We're going to run away together, and I'm not going to become a Fairy Godmother. But that's okay. I'm going to tell him that I've made my decision. You gave me my true love – the least I could do was return the favour and ensure your own wasn't lost."

Rumplestiltskin was baffled, not entirely sure why the fairy was going on about dwarves and love; he was still unaware of how Belle fetching straw had led to this particular moment. He watched as Nova smiled and waved before fading away, glittering fairy dust falling to the floor. The second she was gone, he pulled Belle into his arms again, memorizing her feel, her scent, her face… He closed his eyes and released a breath, pushing his curiosity aside for the time being. He couldn't think of any words, unable to fully express how relieved he was to see her awake. He tried to force back the emotion when Belle's small arms wrapped around him, her form relaxing in his hold. How could someone so _good _feel so safe with someone as dark as him?

"I'm here now," she said when he wouldn't speak. "You found me, like you always have."

How typical. She had just awoken from the sleeping curse and here she was comforting him when it should be the other way around. Dark One or not, he still had the capability to love someone, and he'd loved Belle long before all of this. It just took him a lot longer to accept the fact that he could love at all now that he was, for lack of a better word, a beast. Placing a kiss on her forehead, he helped her settle into her bed, finally deciding to say something that wouldn't leave him sounding vulnerable.

"Rest for now. There will be time to talk of last night's events." He settled himself back into the armchair at her bedside, conjuring a blanket to drape over his form. Belle smiled.

"You're staying?" she asked hopefully. Rumplestiltskin thought of saving face and giving some sort of transparent lie about his feelings, but they were beyond that now. He knew the sleeping curse, and he knew she was in for one of the worst nights of her life.

"Trust me, Belle, memory or no memory, you're going to want someone here tonight. And after everything that's happened, I'll be damned if that person isn't me."

* * *

Belle opened her eyes, looking around when all she saw were flames. She remained calm, initially thinking it was one of her many nightmares about the Duke's castle. Years of the same nightmare had helped her learn to control the repetitive scenarios, but as she stepped further into the room, she realized that this one was different.

For one, she wasn't in a cell. She was in a room, sitting on a transparent floor that did not even remotely resemble the stone ground of the duke's castle. The flames were more vivid than she had ever been able to imagine before, and they weren't bending to her will. Senses that had been missing from previous nightmares were now present: she could smell the smoke and feel the heat. Her calm reserve was starting to fade, slowly being replaced by anxiety and a rapid heartbeat.

Belle covered her head when something fell from the ceiling. She heard someone else's cry, and the voice was enough to make her spin on her heel with wide eyes.

"Hello?!" she called out. She squinted through the flames, trying to focus on the silhouette of a person nearby. The woman was screaming bloody murder, crying and trying to escape the flames. The movement just attracted the fire's licks, and Belle reached out to her.

"Hey! Stay still!" Belle yelled. "You're making it worse!"

Her eyes widened as the woman was suddenly engulfed in flames and disappeared from the room. The sight made Belle panic, so she dropped onto all fours (those fire safety videos from elementary school were finally coming in handy) and crawled towards the wall. She swallowed when she realized there were no doors. Unable to think of anything else, she banged on the wall, hissing as she withdrew her fist. The wall was hot, meaning the fire had spread to the adjacent room as well.

"Hello?! Anybody?!"

Belle screamed as another burning part of the ceiling fell right next to her. Suddenly, the entire room jolted and disappeared into darkness, and Belle found herself shooting up from her bed with a shuddering gasp. Arms immediately wrapped around her, trying to steady her trembles. She could hear Rumplestiltskin's gentle, reserved brogue telling her it was all right, and that she was safe now.

"I told you that you'd want someone here tonight," he said after several moments in silence, and Belle laughed bitterly, her voice still wavering.

"You couldn't have told me I was going to wake up in a room full of fire?"

"Didn't want to frighten you. It's better you get some rest than none," he said, and Belle shook her head.

"I don't know if you could properly call that rest."

Rumplestiltskin lifted her into his arms, walking her to the fireplace and setting her down on one of the pillows. She was still in shock, so she remained silent as he lifted her limbs, inspecting what he could see of her skin.

"You're burned," he said quietly. "Hold on, now…" He hovered his hand over her arm, and she watched as botched skin returned to its usual healthy complexion.

"Thank you," she said after he'd finished his small inspection. He nodded curtly, getting up and walking to one of the display cases in her room. He pulled out a couple of glasses and a bottle of scotch, pouring each of them a drink.

"Are you all right?" he asked, and Belle scoffed.

"In a matter of speaking. What _was_ that?"

"A rather unpleasant side effect of the sleeping curse, I'm afraid. Here," he said, handing her a glass. Belle looked at it uncertainly and he shrugged. He knew their last encounter with alcohol hadn't exactly gone well, but neither of them were going back to bed any time soon.

"What? I figured you'd need it more than I do." He swirled his glass before taking a sip, and after another moment of hesitation, Belle did the same. She closed her eyes as she felt the warmth run down to her belly, calming her nerves.

"Thank you." He simply nodded in response, taking a seat next to her on the ground.

"So you know about the side effects of the sleeping curse," Belle said, and he nodded.

"Oh, aye, I know almost everything there is to dark magic."

"Well, I saw another person," she said with a frown. "I've never seen another person in my nightmares before."

"Unfortunately, the room you were in was not from your imagination. It is a real place, where souls under the curse travel to a Netherworld and live out their worst nightmares and fears. I'm afraid the person you saw is another victim undergoing the same trauma as you." Rumplestiltskin was speaking quietly, taking in her reaction as he explained to make sure he didn't go into too much detail too fast. The glass of scotch suddenly looked more appetizing, and Belle took a long sip. Rumplestiltskin kept his distance, swirling his liquor carefully.

"The dreams will fade over time, though you can't do much about them right now. You can panic each time you enter, or you can remain calm and wait for the flames to pass. Personally, I recommend the latter," he said with a mischievous smirk. "I can always heal any injuries you incur." Belle sighed, resting her forehead against his shoulder. For once he didn't tense, just raising his glass to his lips.

"I wanted more than my provincial life in Storybrooke," she said. "I guess I should have been more careful about what I wished for." Rumplestiltskin chuckled darkly, glancing at Belle as she finished her scotch. He poured her another, nodding his head lightly.

"Wishes always come with a price - just like magic." They sat in silence for a little while, and Belle could feel Rumplestiltskin's gaze on her as she stared at the fireplace, picturing the room she had just escaped from. When the anxiety returned she forced the images away, wanting to calm herself down from everything that had happened that evening.

"Do you remember when we were caught in the rain?" she asked eventually, glancing sideways at him. Rumplestiltskin nodded slowly.

"I wore your shirt on purpose that night. I liked the way you always stared at my legs." It was a bold statement; bold enough to make her feel abashed and blush. It was a temporary distraction from everything that had happened to her over the course of an evening. Belle knew from experience that the man he was before would have blushed at her forwardness as well, but the Dark One simply smirked.

"Staring is a very rude way to put it," he answered easily. "I like to call it 'enjoying the view'."

"Well whatever you call it, I thought it was cute that you always tried to be so subtle."

"Oh, like you're such a subtle creature yourself?" He glanced at her then with a smirk that was more devilish than he intended. Belle didn't seem to mind.

"You think I didn't notice you watching me whenever I interacted with Bae? You women always seem to be so fascinated whenever a man takes care of a child."

"Hey, it's not my fault you were such a good father. It was endearing!" Belle suddenly realized what a sensitive topic they had stumbled onto, and her lips parted in guilt when she saw his rather conflicted expression.

"Oh- oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"No, it's all right. Thank you," he said quietly, the words feeling foreign on his tongue. "I _was _a good father." Belle wanted to reassure him, but watching him raise the scotch to his lips made her realize it was probably better to switch topics. Unfortunately there wasn't really a topic they could pick that wouldn't carry some weight. So many questions were hanging over both of their heads, so she decided to start with the most positive subject.

"So," Belle said quietly, nodding gratefully when Rumplestiltskin refilled their glasses again. "True love, huh?" She saw only a flicker of a reaction from him, but it was enough to encourage her to keep going.

"Nova said she didn't want us to lose ours. What does she mean? Back in Storybrooke, true love is another fairy tale. What is it here?" Rumplestiltskin took his time to answer, picking his words carefully.

"It's very real here," he said quietly, "It's very powerful and very rare. It's the most powerful magic of all. It's the only magic that can break any curse."

"And that's what we have?" Belle asked, sounding just a bit hopeful. Rumplestiltskin paused, only answering after he'd drank from his glass once more.

"Yes."

A part of her had always known that something about him was different. She had, after all, been more than a little attracted to the wool spinner that was shy and cautious, with a heart full of love for his son. Those few days after the ball when they'd done nothing but bask in the glow of their feelings... before everything had gone wrong, those were truly the best days of her life. She remembered the secretive glances they'd shared, the kisses they stole when Bae wasn't around. How elated he made her feel. She wondered if that man was still there beneath all that gold and green skin.

"True love – what a wonderful thought," she said quietly, making him chuckle darkly.

"Isn't it deemed a psychological condition when a prisoner falls in love with the man holding her captive?" he asked, teasing her. Belle gave him a little shove.

"I was your caretaker long before I was your captive. You can't imprison the willing." She looked up at him and saw that conflicted expression again. She liked to think it meant he wanted to kiss her, but had to stop himself. The look of want on his face made her blush deeper, and when he hesitantly wrapped an arm around her shoulders, she leaned into him, nestling her face into his neck. He was the most powerful sorcerer in the Enchanted Forest and he still treated her like a china doll that was easy to break.

"I'm not the same man I was before," he warned her, voice rasping a bit as he forced back the emotion. "The things I've done-"

Belle hushed him, smiling a bit to herself.

"If I expected you to be the same man you were before, I would have gone running the second I remembered you and realized your skin was green. Everybody changes."

She saw the hesitation in his eyes again, that self control holding him back. His gaze flickered to her lips, and she smiled sadly. How she wished she could kiss him like she used to without him shying away in fear of losing his power. Instead, Belle gently pressed her lips to his neck, trailing up his cheek to his jawline. It seemed that as long as she stayed away from his lips, she was okay.

"Where were we the day before everything went wrong? Before we were separated?" Belle asked as she moved to lie down on the cushions, pulling him with her. The images of him hovering over her in the cot of their small hut flashed through her mind. She watched as his expression flickered, going from careful and loving to something much darker; more possessive. Something that both frightened and excited her. He was right; he was different. But if what they had was real, if true love's magic was the only reason she'd awoken from the curse, then she had to get to know both sides of him. Maybe one day, she would help the Dark One see the light.

"Right about here," he answered, quietly, his lips brushing against her cheek. Belle closed her eyes at the feeling, her face flushing pleasantly. He swallowed hard.

"Belle," he warned. "You've only just remembered me. It's too fast."

"Too fast?" Belle repeated, looking up at him now. "You know, many people would argue that thirty years is a long time coming."

"You know what I mean," he said, and it came out almost like a growl, his patience short right then when he was hovering over her. She briefly remembered the first night they'd slept next to each other, beside the fireplace in his small hut. She reached out a hand, and she watched as he closed his eyes, pressing his cheek lightly into her palm.

"Do you not want to?" she asked, and he sent her a glare as though the question were foolish.

"I don't trust myself," he clarified, and Belle smiled.

"But I trust you," she replied, just as she had all those years ago. Except this time, she added, "I love you."

She suddenly felt the weight of the unspoken words leave her shoulders, allowing her to relax beneath his hold. How long had she been waiting to say that to him? She closed her eyes as he bowed his head, kissing her cheeks and her neck but always missing her lips.

"Yes," he sighed, "I love you too."

He bit down then, making her gasp and arch against him. She could hear that deep growl again when he pulled back to see his mark, and it made her heart race.

"If I'm too rough," he said quietly, "If I hurt you… just tell me. Sometimes I can't control-"

"I know," Belle said, pulling him back down so he would resume his work on her neck. "Keep going." With her blessing, he trailed his kisses down further, stopping when he reached the neckline of her dress. Her fingers looped around the belt loops of his pants, pulling his hips flush against hers. This was true love, and she wanted every bit of it.

At that moment, both of them knew there was no going back.

* * *

As Rumplestiltskin understood it, the morning after making love was supposed to be peaceful. It was supposed to be romantic, and they were supposed to bask in the glow of everything the two lovers had just shared. He imagined that with true love, the feelings would be much more intense than the stories let on.

He supposed, if he were a normal man, that he would have felt these things, but the dark side of himself felt neglected, and it was creeping up at his most vulnerable moments. He awoke before Belle that morning, holding her in his arms as his gaze swept across the light bruises on her body from when he had been unable to remain as gentle. His embrace was not loving or gentle like it was supposed to be either - it was possessive. She was _his. _She _belonged _to the Dark One. She'd given herself willingly, and he was not about to let her go.

Evil thoughts wandered to punishing Regina for what she had done to _his _Belle. He taught the witch everything she knew, and he could easily dispose of her now that he had Belle to help him find his way back to Bae. He thought of making Regina's death slow and painful, using some sort of dull object to prolong the torture.

But then Belle stirred and all those thoughts vanished. She thrust violently in his arms as she awoke, her eyes going wide as her soul returned from the room of fire.

"Ssh, love," he told her quietly, kissing her forehead and holding her firmly against his chest. "It's all right. I'm still here." He looked down to where he was holding her in his arms, observing the contrast of his strangely coloured skin intertwined with her creamy, slightly bruised complexion. She was still trembling, and he kept her close, resting his chin gently on her head.

"Did you see anybody this time?" he asked, and Belle shook her head.

"No – No, I was alone…"

"Were you hurt?" he asked, and she shook her head.

"No, I hid in the corner, away from the curtains."

"Good - you're learning."

"I love you," she told him quite suddenly, and he smiled despite himself. He could see how just saying the words helped calm herself down.

"Yes," he said quietly, "I love you too." He glanced down at her as he hummed, willing the darker part of himself to stay away when he saw her raise the blanket to her chest in modesty.

"Enjoying the view?" she teased him.

"Would you rather I didn't?" he asked. Belle giggled shyly, but her pleased expression slowly faded when she realized how quickly he was getting dressed.

"Do you have more business to do today?" she asked, and he chuckled darkly.

"Oh, yes, indeed I do. I have a certain Queen to visit after what happened to you last night." Belle sat up, grasping Rumplestiltskin's wrist with a frown.

"What are you going to do to her?"

"Nothing the wicked woman doesn't deserve," he said, and Belle shook her head.

"No. That's not how I want to do this."

"What?" There was that side of him again, that side that Belle barely knew. The Dark One looked at her with a formidable frown, watching as Belle stumbled over her words.

"We just- I mean, after last night, you know. Can the first thing on your mind really be revenge?" His features softened somewhat, realizing that she had probably awoken hoping for the romantic morning her novels always gave her.

"When it comes to others harming the people I love, dearie, it certainly can be," he said quietly. Rumplestiltskin saw the troubled expression on Belle's face, so he took both of her hands in his, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek.

"I won't hurt her," he said quietly, sensing the real trouble in her expression. "I promise. But I do need to see her and tie up the loose ends of a deal."

Belle was visibly comforted by his reassurance that he would do Regina no harm, and curiosity dawned on his expression. He marveled slightly at how easily she trusted him. After a moment, he leaned in closer, that mischief on his face again.

"Could I harm her just a little bit?" he asked. Belle realized it was a joke, and she laughed, giving him a shove.

"No! That woman will get what's coming to her without your own funny definition of justice. Now go – the sooner you leave, the sooner you can return."

* * *

Rumplestiltskin waited patiently for Regina to appear, just as he had the night before. This time he had no scheduled appointment, but he was willing to bet that she knew he would be dropping by after the events of last night. There was no way she could have gone about everything with Belle thinking he wouldn't realize who did it all.

It wasn't long before she showed up, appearing in a cloud of purple smoke, and she didn't look the least bit surprised to see him sitting on her couch.

"Rumple! How is your girl," she asked with false pleasantry, walking to her desk and pouring herself some tea. She offered him a cup, but he shook his head.

"I think you know very well how Belle is," he said, lifting his head a bit with a satisfied smile. "Awake already, actually. Spent her night in a room full of enchanted fire."

Regina looked like she smelled something rotten, her expression twisting into one of displeasure as she looked at him. Her gaze roamed over his features, noticing how his curse was still very much intact. She was probably wondering how he'd managed to break the sleeping curse without kissing her.

"Yes, well," she said, "I thought you might need a little push in finishing that Dark Curse."

"And trying to kill Belle would have made me create it faster?" he asked with a sneer. Regina remained silent, but he knew her motives without her saying a word. He'd gone through enough power struggles with the woman to know neither of them would relinquish their intense gaze, so he held up the dangerous roll of parchment that contained the curse. It effectively distracted her, and her eyes widened. Regina reached out to it and he quickly snapped it back.

"Ah! Now, now. Not so eager, Your Majesty. You spied on Belle through my mirrors, you faked her death, you put her under a sleeping curse, and now she gets to wake every night to a room full of fire for the foreseeable future." Regina denied none of his claims, looking rather pleased with herself. He glared at her now.

"Can you explain _how _you managed to come to the conclusion that doing all of this would get me to give you the Dark Curse faster?"

"I know you're just as addicted to your power as I am," Regina said haughtily. "I expected you to leave her under the influence of the curse until you found your son. Losing her would make you finish it sooner so you could get her back in the next world."

"Ah, see," he said evilly, "That's where you're wrong. When it comes to the people I love, I always find a way."

"Love?" Regina asked with a laugh. "Rumple, really. You think that girl loves you? You're holding her captive. The second you give Belle her freedom, she will leave and she will never return." Her words barely affected him; he had created true love's magic from the strands of their hair. And after last night, he knew that she loved him, and she would always return. Regina may think she knew Belle, but she knew nothing. She had no idea how far back their history went, and he intended to keep it that way.

Regina's gaze returned to the scroll in his hands, and he saw that lust for power in her eyes.

"Thanks to that girl, I've finally decided on a location, and when I cast that curse, we will all be transported to a land without magic."

"Wrong again," he said, giggling lightly. He held up the parchment, and in one swift move, he ripped it in two.

Regina cried out, her eyes wide as she tired to reach out for its remains, but the parchment burst into flame and he felt the powerful dark magic boil into the air. The devastation on her face matched the one that he had worn for Belle the previous night. For the first time in his life, he pitied the Evil Queen and how much she depended on making other people unhappy.

"Rumplestiltskin, you _wretched_ imp," she screeched,_ "_What have you _done?! _You have destroyed _years _of work in a matter of seconds!"

He threw the ashes of the parchment at her feet.

"Feel free to find another way to harm Snow White and her Prince, but I will have none of it after everything you've just pulled."

"We had a _deal-_" Regina exclaimed, but he shook his head, that manic smile on his face.

"Ah, ta, ta, ta, ta. The deal was for me to create the Dark Curse in exchange for you casting it," he said cruelly. "There is no curse, therefore, you will not be casting it. Our deal is officially null and void. We are _done._"

Rumplestiltskin stood from his seat and smoke began to slowly wrap around him as he faded away, ready to leave the Dark Castle. Quietly, he uttered his threat:

"Mark my words, Your Majesty, if you come near me or Belle ever again, I _will _kill you."

* * *

**A/N: **So? Are you guys thrilled that Belle is back to her usual self?! I hope you enjoyed all the love while you could - coming up, Regina finds ways around Rumplestiltskin's threat, Rumple lifts the curse on Belle so she is free to leave the castle, and Avonlea goes into an uproar about the "beast." Leave a review for the next chapter, I'm still loving them!


	9. Beans, Beans, the Magical Fruit

When You Wish Upon a Star

Summary: Belle French is no longer happy in Storybrooke, wanting more than what life has to offer. One night, a wish upon a star brings her to a far-off land where there are ogres, werewolves and other beasts. Thankfully, she also happens upon a wool spinner and his son. (AU)

**A/N: **… Adam Horowitz replied to one of my tweets. Lee Arenberg retweeted another. Now if I could just see Robert Carlyle in action filming in Steveston, I will die happy.

Thank you to all followers and reviewers, this fic has officially reached over fifty reviews and follows! You guys make me so happy! ^_^ References to The Crocodile in this chapter!

**Stargate533: **Now if only they would get back together in the actual show!

**Andi88: **Oh ho ho, just you wait. I have a fic in the works with Lacey and Mr. Gold. It may not be rated M right away, but it certainly will a few chapters in, and it's going to be a doozy. I might post one or two chapters before this one is complete, but I want this one to take priority. I'm just afraid of people taking the idea/title before I post!

**Eyes like Dawn: **Thank you! And honestly, I am too haha.

**TeamTHEFT: **Oho, I will!

**Rhiannal: **Welcome, new reader! Glad you're liking it so far. From your profile, I see you and I share the same taste in fanfics, haha. ;)

**Electryone: **Thank you! Glad you enjoyed it.

**thedoctorsgirl42: **Thank you, haha. I figured it was something Nova would do.

**Candygirlrr: **Thanks! I haven't actually decided what's going to happen yet so we'll see where it takes us!

**Prowler4: **Haha! He will and he won't – you'll see what I mean later. ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Once Upon a Time.

* * *

Chapter 9: Beans, Beans, the Magical Fruit

How dare that little imp!

How dare he betray her for that whore!

Regina was seething, pacing back and forth in her office. Attempts to repair the curse failed miserably; the ashes sat in a jar, useless, atop her desk. She was back to square one after all of these years! Their interests had aligned before – they'd both wanted a way out of this land into the next. Then all of a sudden he wins a girl from a deal and he doesn't need the Queen to cast his curse anymore?!

She growled, venting out her anger and smacking several of the books off of her desk. How had he lost his desperation? She remembered the story vividly – the hatred that fueled him when he realized that pirate had tricked him and kept the bean for himself after he crushed Milah's heart. He wanted nothing more than to find his son, so why would he have destroyed the Curse?

Wait.

The bean.

Regina glanced at a large, tattered hat that sat atop one of her shelves. Rumplestiltskin no longer found Regina useful now that he had this… _girl _keeping him company - this girl that came from Storybrooke. If that was the case, Regina was going to make herself useful again. The gears in her mind started turning. If Belle somehow went back without Rumplestiltskin, then he would have _two _people he loved stuck in another world. He would have no choice but to team up with her again, and between the two of them they would find a way to get to that other land, even if it meant starting the curse from scratch. Once completed, Regina could finally take away Snow White's happy ending, and Rumplestiltskin could go and find true love, or whatever bullshit that girl had him believing in now.

It seemed even cursed imps fell prey to beauty.

Regina grabbed the hat off of the shelf, holding it in her hands. _Guide the hat to a past time and place._ She thought back to everything Rumplestiltskin told her: a few years back, right after he killed Milah at the Faemil docks where Captain Jones' ship was anchored… The hat began to shake and she dropped it onto the ground, watching with wide, malicious eyes as it span. She looked into it and saw Rumplestiltskin slicing Killian Jones' hand before disappearing. She waited patiently, watching as the pirate threw the bean into the ocean.

Except this time, it came flying out of the hat.

Regina caught the magical bean with ease, her eyes widening with victory. She looked into her mirror, seeing the faces of Avonlea's rulers as they got ready for the day. She knew exactly who she could give this bean to – and how to work it in her favour.

* * *

_So this is love,_ Belle mused. For countless glorious days, Belle lived and breathed Rumplestiltskin. His name was on the tip of her tongue while the sun was up, and cried out in lustful, joyous waves when the sun was down. Her skin glowed with a rosy color, partly from joy and partly from the long hours she was spending outside, never content with staying inside the castle after her usual nightmares. The cold wind nipped at her cheeks and her neck and she relished the feeling, closing her eyes and thinking of the way he did the same when they made love. It seemed all of her senses were awakened and alive. The air smelled sweeter, the birds sang more clearly, the nerves of her fingertips were sensitive to hot and cold, smooth and rough.

Best of all, the side of him she'd barely known was no longer a stranger. Especially after the nights they shared, she found she'd grown to like the green, gold-flecked face that smiled at her. The face of the wool spinner and the face of the Dark One – they were the faces that Belle loved; they were one in the same. Rumplestiltskin and the Dark One were two sides of the same man.

He invited her into his study every day, teaching her things about magic and the Enchanted Forest that may help them come up with a way to get back to Storybrooke and find Bae. He spoke with an eagerness that she realized Bae had inherited from his father, Rumplestiltskin's eyes lighting up whenever he talked about all the things that she found foreign about this world. She was a fast learner, and he was happy to teach her, making inappropriate quips here and there to keep her on her toes. He was sensitive of her morals, knowing never to bring up any dark magic in her presence. She noticed him going out for business less and less, the pile of contracts on his desk growing smaller. The prospect of finding his son with her help seemed to have slowed down his desire to do dark deals; he only made deals with people that he felt might give them something to help them on their journey.

A large chalkboard in the centre of the room had endless scribbles on it, every probable theory of getting back to Storybrooke hastily written down. They weren't able to find a way to follow any of them through completely just yet, but hey, theories were better than nothing, right? So far the best suggestion was climbing up the giant's beanstalk and sneaking around. The lands had been salted, so there wouldn't be any new beans growing, but there might be something in the abandoned giant's castle that could help them. Unfortunately, if Belle wanted to come with Rumplestiltskin, she had to learn a little magic for self-defense – like shielding spells and the like. He'd told her he could sense she had magic within her; stored, unused and potentially powerful. She may have been born in Storybrooke but her parents were both from the Enchanted Forest, so magic wasn't out of the question for her. But she wasn't willing to learn any of it, afraid of growing dependent on magic's powers like Rumplestiltskin and Regina. When she'd expressed her fear, he'd brushed her off, confident that a "soul as true as hers" wouldn't fall prey to the lust for power he often felt.

Still, Belle wasn't willing and asked that he dismiss the topic. Out of respect, he did, but she would notice him watching her carefully whenever she read one of his spell books. Apparently she was able to interpret the words and foreign characters faster than many of the witches and wizards in the land. That's what she was doing one night after dinner, her legs splayed across one of the rests of an armchair as she translated an old spell book, holding it so close to her face her nose almost touched the pages. Even if she wouldn't _use _magic, she loved _learning _about it.

"You know, I have been standing here for ten minutes waiting for you to notice that I have placed a rose in your hair. I feel like I could have died violently in front of you and you wouldn't have noticed."

Belle looked up from her book, startled back into reality with a fierce blush when she saw Rumplestiltskin standing at the door to the library. She reached up to her hair, and indeed found a rose tucked behind her ear.

"Sorry," she said lamely, putting the book aside. "I happen to be extremely self-centered and noticing violent deaths doesn't happen to be a strong point of mine." Sometimes she was able to match his dark humour, and when she did, it made him smile like he'd fallen in love with her all over again. She stood up from her armchair and wrapped her arms around his neck, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you for the rose," she said gratefully, and he smiled, pleased that she liked the small gift.

"I was hoping I could talk to you about something," he said, and she nodded, clasping her hands behind her back in anticipation.

"Of course."

"Just… how _much _do you care for me?" he asked, and by the rather vulnerable expression on his face, she could tell it was not an easy subject for him to breach. Belle noticed he was fidgeting, something that hadn't changed. He still got nervous rather easily, especially in front of her. Raising a hand, she gently cupped his cheek in her palm.

"I think you should take strands of our hair and place them in a vial. That would probably give you a pretty good answer," she said cheekily, and he released a breath.

"Yes… Yes, that's quite true."

"Is something wrong?" she asked, cocking her head lightly to the side. "You look troubled."

"No- erm, yes," he stammered, one hand held up theatrically in the air as he pointed to her. "I ah, I lifted your enchantment."

"What?" Belle wasn't entirely sure what he was referring to, and she tensed slightly as his expression became conflicted, his hand running through his hair.

"I lifted your enchantment a couple of weeks ago; you are free to leave the Castle as you wish, and I haven't… I never told you." He was stammering as Belle stayed silent, a little blown away by the fact that he would let her leave the castle to do something other than fetch straw. He stood there awkwardly, fingertips twitching slightly as he rubbed them together.

"Should I have told you sooner?"

"That depends," Belle said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Why didn't you tell me?" Rumplestiltskin pursed his lips together in a thin line, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

"You know why," was his answer, but she shook her head.

"No, no. You're not getting off so easy. _Why _didn't you tell me?" she asked again, taking pleasure in the fact he really didn't want to say it. After a few seconds, he sighed.

"Because I was afraid you wouldn't come back if I told you."

"And _that _is why," Belle said, ruffling his hair with a laugh, "You are both the smartest man I have ever known, and the most stupid." Rumplestiltskin held her at arm's length then, scowling slightly.

"What a rude thing to say to a man who has saved your life on more than one occasion."

"And assuming I would run away after everything we've been through isn't insulting to me?" Belle countered, grinning when she realized she'd beaten him.

"Well," he said, "When you put it that way…" He didn't release her from his grasp when she laughed in triumph, instead pulling her closer with so much intensity it subdued her excitement. She swallowed as he brought his face close to hers, his gaze once again lingering on her lips.

"Why did you lift it?" Belle asked quietly, closing her eyes as he whispered against the soft skin of her neck.

"Because I want to make you happy, Belle. I want to offer you more than this; more than darkness."

"Ever since the day I met you, you've given me more than I could ever repay you for," she reminded him, her knees trembling a bit as his kisses fluttered to her collarbone.

"Just tell me you won't leave," he said, and he buried his face in her neck so she wouldn't see his desperate expression. "Tell me you'll come back."

"Rumple," Belle said, cupping his face in her hands and forcing him to look at her. Amber eyes bore into blue, and she kissed his forehead.

"I will _always _come back to you. You have nothing to worry about. I'm yours." The words seemed to spark that darker side of him, and his grip became immediately possessive.

"Yes – you're _mine,_" he growled, his fingers digging into her shoulders, his teeth bared at her cheek. Suddenly he swung her around, slamming her back against one of the bookcases. His hips pressed against hers, and Belle felt that delirious, heady cloud of sensual amour overwhelm her senses. There was a slight urgency between them now; he wanted to believe that she wouldn't hurt him. That she wouldn't leave. And she wanted to prove it to him.

Belle was more forward with him, her touches more firm than gentle, her kisses more rough than soft. He matched her energy, nipping at exposed skin and leaving his mark behind. Before she knew it she was crying out his name again in the middle of their library. It was something that had started as an accident; something that she hadn't managed to hold back one night when neither of them could get back to sleep after her nightmare. But he took delight in hearing her say his name in such satisfaction, claiming she brought beauty to an otherwise ugly name. She'd said it every time since, be it as a gasp or a whisper, just to see that lascivious smile on his face.

Who needed magic when she could bring the most powerful man in the Enchanted Forest to his knees just by saying his name?

* * *

Lady Rose ran a hand through her grey hair, looking and feeling years older than she was. She hadn't seen her daughter in so long, and until recently, she hadn't even known where she was being kept. Gaston's sudden return was the first lead they'd had in over a year, and since he'd come back he had been working with the army non-stop, trying to figure out a plan to kill the beast and get Belle back. The Dark Castle was shrouded in magic – apparently they couldn't just knock down his doors with force. They needed a strategy.

They were consulting wizards across the land, but none of them were willing to face the Dark One. Rose had made a mistake with Belle, putting her own happiness before her daughter's back in Storybrooke. But Belle's forgiving heart allowed them one short bittersweet reunion before she was taken by that dark and terrible man. She felt as though she'd spent more years apart from Belle than with her, and all she wanted to do was get her daughter back.

"Lady Rose!"

Rose looked up as Gaston and Maurice ran into her study, two stewards trailing behind him. Gaston bowed low, as he always did, and she gestured for him to stand back up. Why did he always insist on bowing? Maurice's eyes were wide, and Rose noticed he was clutching a piece of paper in his hand.

"What is it?" she asked, walking towards them now with a cautious eye. Had they made a breakthrough in their strategy? Had they finally found a way to save Belle? Maurice held out the piece of paper to Rose, and her eyes widened when she recognized the neat, loopy cursive immediately. Her heart raced and she read the short letter hungrily before looking back up to them.

"Is this- is this true?"

"We have no reason to doubt its authenticity," one of the stewards answered. Lady Rose pressed the piece of paper against her heart, an overwhelming joy causing her to tear up and pull Maurice into an embrace.

"He's let her go? Belle's coming back?"

"To visit," Gaston clarified rather bitterly. "She says she intends to reside at the Dark Castle, and will explain everything when she arrives." Lady Rose should have been troubled by the news, but just the thought of seeing her daughter again, however briefly, was enough to keep her spirits high.

"Actually," came a foreign voice, and all the occupants of the room turned to face the door. Lady Rose and Sir Maurice tensed when they saw Queen Regina herself seating herself in one of their chairs.

"I believe I have a way for you to get your happy ending – _without _the interference of the Dark One. I have something that you might consider quite valuable."

"And what could you possibly offer us, Your Majesty?" Rose asked, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. Regina held out her hand, and Rose's eyes widened when she saw a solitary magical bean sitting in the center of her palm. She had thought she used the last one to get back to the Enchanted Forest!

"Glad to see I've got your attention," Regina said slyly. "With this, you and your little family can go back to Storybrooke and live out the rest of your happily ever after – _without _the imp."

"For what price?" Maurice asked now, memories of the Dark One taking his only child away flashing through his mind.

"No price," Regina said, leaning back in her seat. "I'm giving you this bean so that you can be a family again, far from the complications of this world. I will keep the Dark One at bay while you go through the portal for your new life in Storybrooke."

"Why are you doing this?" Rose asked Regina warily, and the woman flashed her a false smile. "You're the Evil Queen – why would you want to help us?"

"I was always the Queen," she said darkly, "It is Snow White who added evil to my name."

* * *

She could hear herself screaming as she tried to run from the flames.

Snow White covered her hair and cried out for help, the tears already streaming down her face. Why did this keep happening? Why wasn't it getting any better? She could have the best day in the world, fall asleep with the most peaceful thoughts, and she would still end up in this horrible place.

"Hey! Hey, over here!"

Snow White looked up, squinting into the distance. She could see a small woman near the corner of the room waving her arms.

"H- hello?" Snow White said, sniffling a bit. She immediately regretted the action, as she accidently inhaled smoke and felt it burn her throat.

"Hey! It's about time you heard me! Come here!"

Snow White shrieked as a flame suddenly whipped at her arm, the heat burning her skin.

"Don't be afraid – the fear attracts the flames!" The woman was gesturing for her to come over now. "Take a deep breath and crawl over to me. Okay?"

Snow White did as she was told, shying away from the flames every time they flickered towards her. The woman was coaxing her through it, telling her to take her time. When she eventually made it, her eyes widened, realizing the girl was transparent.

"What's happened to you_?" _Snow White asked with wide eyes, and the petite brunette laughed.

"I'm just somewhere else." Snow White observed the woman with a small frown. She did not bow like most people did when they met her, but she clearly recognized her.

"Snow White, right?" she said. "I'm Belle. I've been wondering when I was going to meet you!"

"What?" Snow White replied, her eyebrows furrowed. What an odd thing to say. Belle waved a dismissive hand.

"Nevermind. Look, I've seen you a few times and I want to help. The flames are attracted to our fear – if you sit in the corner away from the curtains, they won't harm you. You just have to wait until you wake up again."

"How do you know this?" she asked, and Belle smiled.

"I have someone helping me too. Look, next time I'm in here, I'll keep an eye out for you. It's probably easier to pass the time with someone else. How long have you been experiencing this dream?"

"Oh, months now," Snow White said, shaking her head. "It's never gotten any easier."

"Same here," Belle replied. "But hopefully it will get better now." Snow White glanced at the flames, amazed at how they weren't trying to harm her anymore. She smiled despite herself, shakily seating herself beside the transparent soul.

"Yeah… yeah, I think it will." Snow White glanced sideways at Belle, smiling. "Hey, thanks for helping me."

"No problem. Sometimes you just need someone to calm you down." The small woman was beautiful, Snow White noticed, with dark brown hair cascading down her back. She was wearing a blue dress that clung to her tiny waist before flaring generously at the hips. She was pleasantly proportionate, and she had a kind face that Snow White immediately trusted.

"Can I ask you something?" Belle asked, and Snow White nodded.

"Of course."

"You were under the sleeping curse, right?"

"Yeah," Snow White said, shaking her head. "I guess that's why I'm here. I've heard it's a side effect of the curse."

"And was it your evil stepmother who put you under the curse?" she asked. Snow White looked at her with surprise. There were not many in the land who did not know of the Queen's hatred for her daughter in law, but still, to come to the conclusion that _she _had been the one to put her to sleep was quite bold.

"Yes! How did you know that?" she asked, and Belle looked immediately uncomfortable. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Oh, uh - she put me under it too."

"Huh. She's been busy, I guess," Snow White said, frowning a bit. How could Regina have ended up this way? She'd been such a good person before…

"I'm sorry she did that to you," she said after a while, glancing at Belle. The small beauty waved a dismissive hand.

"It's all right. Worse things could have happened, I suppose."

"Worse than dreaming about a room full of fire that can burn your skin even when you regain consciousness?" Snow White asked, and Belle laughed bitterly.

"Hey. At least we figured out how to avoid getting burned now, right?" Snow White smiled at her, noticing right away how the girl seemed to make the best out of bad scenarios. She sat there with her knees drawn to her chest for a while, listening to the sound of the rippling flames.

"Why did she do it to you?" she asked after another long pause. "My stepmother, I mean. Why did she target you?" Belle again looked uncomfortable, sparing her a side-glance before answering.

"I, ah, I'm not entirely sure. I think it has to do with Rumplestiltskin."

"The Dark One?" Snow White blurted out. "What do _you _have to do with the Dark One?" She was so sweet – so innocent! What could a girl as kind as her be doing with a man as evil as Rumplestiltskin? Belle looked at her, her expression kind once more as she answered with surprising honesty.

"I love him."

Snow White didn't say anything for a while, the various rumours of the Dark One's mistress flying through her head. She'd heard the rumours but never believed them to be true. Hadn't he taken her as the end of one of his deals? How did it go from that to love?

"Wow," was all she could think to say. "Well… good for you."

Belle laughed out loud, and the tone suggested that she was not exactly surprised by Snow's forcedly polite reaction.

"You don't have to understand," she said gently, "No one does. But I love him, and he loves me. That's all that matters in the end, isn't it?"

Snow White smiled, nodding her head and thinking of Charming.

"Yes… Yes, I suppose it is."

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" Belle was packing a small suitcase full of her favourite dresses while Rumplestiltskin sat at the edge of her bed.

"Quite certain," he answered with a sneer. "Can you imagine the conversation? 'Oh, hello, remember me? I'm the man who took your daughter away. I'm giving her back now, but by the by, we fell in love and I've developed a fondness for kissing her in inappropriate places'."

Belle laughed melodically, giving Rumplestiltskin a small shove.

"Well, you wouldn't actually say it like that, I hope!"

"No, I suppose not dearie, but I'm still not coming," he said, holding his hands up in defense when Belle shot him a glare. She still hated it when he called her that.

"I'll be back in two or three days, then. I shouldn't be too long, but I want to take the time to visit them and help them get used to the idea," Belle said, and he nodded.

"And your nightmares?"

"They're better now that I know how to control them," Belle assured him. "I should be fine, but I'll be sure to contact you if that changes."

Rumplestiltskin nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. He wasn't entirely thrilled with the idea of Belle being gone for a few days, but he had lifted the enchantment to make her happy. He trusted her to return, but he was dreading how empty the Dark Castle would feel without her there. Which was hypocritical, he knew, since he'd gone on so many business trips during her stay here, but still… he was a selfish man.

He watched her as she packed, once again finding himself marveling in her beauty. Yes, she had the bluest eyes he had ever seen, and the prettiest face he had ever had the fortune of looking upon. But it was so much more than that. Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies, after all. She thought back to what Bae had said: she was beautiful on the inside, too. Even after all the terrible things he had done, and all the terrible things that had happened to him, she still had a heart pure and strong enough to love him. After all of his mistakes, all of his cowardice and lust for power, she made him want to be a better man.

"Rumple?" Belle was looking at him now, concern in her expression. "Are you all right?" He glanced at her, pulling himself out of his thoughts, and nodded.

"Yes. Just thinking."

"About?" Belle asked. He smiled at her curiosity and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small box. He held it out to her.

"You, of course. I got you something for the trip." Her eyes widened in delight, and she accepted the box gratefully. When she opened it up, she gasped, and he found it very difficult to suppress a smile.

"It's very beautiful," she said, pulling out the golden necklace. It was on a long, sturdy chain, and the pendent was in the shape of a book.

"My goodness, Rumple, where did you get this?"

"I made it, actually," he said, smirking at the shocked look on her face. "Don't look so surprised, love, I _make _gold, remember?" He stood up from the bed, taking the necklace from the box and draping it around her neck.

"Even if the trip is hard, and your parents are difficult to deal with, just remember I will be waiting here for your return to make it all better." Once the necklace was securely latched in place, she turned around and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. He smiled sadly as she kissed his cheek, and he wondered how long it would be before he could _really _kiss her again.

"But I thought you didn't like me in gold," Belle said cheekily as she lifted the golden pendant, and Rumplestiltskin shrugged.

"I lied. That gold dress looked fantastic on you." She laughed, securing her suitcase and placing it on the ground.

"Thank you so much for the gift," she said. "I love it and now I'll have something to remind me of you while I'm gone. Unfortunately, I really should get going. But I'll see you soon?" He nodded, not really wanting to say anything for fear of being too possessive. He walked her to the door, trying to push away the dreadful feeling of not seeing her for days.

"Have fun," he said instead, and Belle smiled.

"I'll miss you," she assured him, and he chuckled. At least he wasn't the only one.

"I'll miss you too."

* * *

It had been a long time since she'd walked the road to Avonlea. Belle took the curves easily, remembering them well. As each mile passed, her conviction deepened. She would tell her parents everything: how she'd known him well before he was the Dark One, how he had taken her in and cared for her when she first came to this place. She would convince them she loved him no matter what. There would be no more veils between them. Whatever fate dealt her and Rumplestiltskin, they could deal with it, as long as they were together.

She practiced the words she would tell her parents in her mind as she wound her way up the mountains. She would be plain. She would be direct. And above all, she would be honest. By the time she reached their castle's gate, she had it all straight in her mind. She knocked on the door, but when they opened, revealing her parents' loving gazes, all the carefully prepared words flew out of her mind. Her mother teared and her father blubbered, and they pulled her into an embrace.

"Oh, I've missed you, Belle," Maurice said. Neither of her parents were releasing her, and Belle was fine with that. She'd missed them both terribly.

"Gaston told us the Dark One was still holding you captive," Rose said. "We've been trying to come up with ways to get you back, but we hadn't found anything so far that would be strong enough to break the magic that protects his walls."

"About that," Belle said, pulling back a little so she could see their faces. "He's not holding me captive, I've _chosen_ to be with him. That's why I'm here – to tell you both everything that's happened."

She could already see that her parents weren't going to take the news well, though she'd never expected otherwise. Maurice's face fell, and after a few seconds of stunned silence, he finally spoke.

"Are you saying you fell in love with him?"

Belle nodded, unable to help but smile as she thought about how wonderful the past few weeks had been. But her smile was not met, Maurice's expression turning into one of anger.

"It _must _be over now, Belle. You're home! Promise me that you'll end things with him – that you'll never see him again!"

"I'm not a child," Belle exclaimed, backing away from them now. Rose reached out to her daughter, frowning a bit.

"Belle, you don't understand what that man will do to you. What he's already done." Belle looked at her mother, wondering how many sordid tales she'd heard about the Dark One since her return to the Enchanted Forest.

"No, _you _don't understand," she said. "It's _my _life."

"Belle," Rose said, her voice more kind and gentle than her father's, "When you sent us that letter, we were thrilled. We've found a magical bean – a bean that will bring us to Storybrooke. We can live in comfort like we used to. We can be a family again."

Belle tensed, thinking carefully now. They had a magical bean – that meant Rumplestiltskin and her finally had a foolproof way to get back to Storybrooke and find his son.

"I'm not going there without him," Belle said firmly, but Maurice shook his head.

"Do you think the people of Storybrooke would take kindly to the Dark One? His crocodile skin and wretched ways? There's no magic there, Belle. He would be outcast just as quickly there as he is here."

"It's just a curse," Belle said. "If there's no magic there, he'll be an ordinary man again!"

"An imp is not a man," Maurice said darkly. She glared at him.

"He _is _a man! He's the only reason I survived in this place when I came here. You just have to give me a chance to explain-"

"No," Maurice said firmly, gesturing into the hallway. "That man has manipulated you, Belle. You do not need to tell us stories to justify his wicked ways. He _stole _you from us. He robbed us of our daughter. We can't allow this - this association with him." Belle furrowed her brow in confusion as Gaston came out, immediately wrapping his arms around her and pulling her further in. She struggled against him; this wasn't how this was supposed to go. They were supposed to listen, they were supposed to let her talk!

"What are you doing?!" she yelled.

"It's for your own good," Maurice said. "Gaston - bring her to the tower." Belle increased her struggle, but she was small while Gaston was strong. Rose frowned at the sight, and Belle saw the look of doubt on her mother's face. She tried to reach out to her.

"Mother, please, you can't-!"

"I'm sorry, Belle," Rose said, and Belle shook her head. This couldn't be happening. They were her _parents_, they were supposed to listen!

"It really is for your own good. We love you!"

And that was the last thing Belle remembered, something striking the back of her head and making her entire world go black.


	10. Kill the Beast

When You Wish Upon a Star

Summary: Belle French is no longer happy in Storybrooke, wanting more than what life has to offer. One night, a wish upon a star brings her to a far-off land where there are ogres, werewolves and other beasts. Thankfully, she also happens upon a wool spinner and his son. (AU)

**A/N: **I reference to a scene in the Disney movie, Beauty and the Beast in this one! ;) Ho man, I am still sick. It is driving me nuts. No runny nose or anything, but I have that really heavy, achy feeling that comes with a fever and makes me want to lay in bed all day. My head is spinning from the lack of activity, haha. I hope that isn't reflected in my writing, haha!

Just note this chapter is a bit shorter than usual due to the under the weather-ness and because I liked the pace of this chapter and didn't want to change anything. I'll make it up to you!

**TeamTHEFT: **Thanks so much, you've been such a dedicated R&R'er! I love reading your reviews every time! In terms of the curse, we'll have to see where that takes us, won't we? ;)

**Manyfandomsonegirl: **Welcome, new reader and reviewer! I am thrilled you are enjoying the fic! I fully intend to keep going, and finish. ;)

**cheesyteal'c:** Was this update soon enough for you? :D

**Stargate533: **Haha, I'd love to write the chapter where Belle spends an entire afternoon reading to Rumplestiltskin, but I have a feeling that one wouldn't be as interesting.

**Allielove95: **Thank you! I hope you made it up to this chapter! ;)

**thedoctorsgirl42: **Aren't they, though? I figured this was a safe route to take considering Maurice tried to send her across the town line handcuffed to a mine cart in the show.

**MyraValhallah: **Thank you! Glad you've enjoyed it so far, we're almost finished!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Once Upon a Time or Disney.

* * *

Chapter 10: Kill the Beast

It was a depressing day when Belle realized that the room of fire was her sanctuary. Falling asleep took away the pain and the desperation of being back home with parents that were trying to control her life. The more forgiving part of herself knew they still thought of her as a child, as she'd been absent from them most of her life, but the truth was, she was an adult. She had the right to make her own choices – they just didn't see it that way. She wanted them to be a part of her life, to be approving of Rumplestiltskin. She'd spent too much time away from all of them, so she wanted them to be together. If she could just get her parents away from the comfort of _magic_, of holding her captive in this enchanted castle, then she could get through to them!

Belle sat in the corner of the fiery room again, knees drawn to her chest as she wiped her tears on the fabric of her dress. She wanted to reach out to Rumplestiltskin; she wished she had some way of communicating with him, but being locked in a tower, she couldn't exactly write a letter. Cellphones from Storybrooke were looking mighty good right now.

She toyed with her novel pendant, able to take in all of its detail even in the dream. She felt the small grooves beneath her fingertips, but something made her squint her eyes in curiosity.

"A latch?" Her thumb carefully snapped the latch open, and her eyes widened when she realized the novel actually _opened_, tiny golden pages with inscriptions turning with each gentle flick of her fingers.

_Once upon a time, _one page read.

_There was an ugly man, _said the next.

_Loved by a beautiful woman._

_She showed him many things:_

_Love is patience._

_Love is selfless._

_And, most importantly she showed him…_

_True love is -_

_Us._

Belle heaved a sob, feeling the sting of the smoke. She was suddenly a blubbering mess, sobbing and coughing and rubbing her wet face against her dress. All she wanted to do was kiss Rumplestiltskin silly for such a heartwarming gift. How could she not see the good in him if he could produce something with so much love even while under the Dark Curse? She didn't even see Snow White approach her, only noticing her presence when she felt a cool chill on her shoulder, the woman's hand going straight through her shoulder due to their transparencies.

"Snow," Belle said quietly, rubbing her eyes. "Sorry. How are you?"

"How are _you?_" Snow asked, arching an eyebrow and sitting across from her. "What's wrong?"

"I'm being held captive – seems to be a recurring theme in my life," Belle said bitterly.

"Recurring?" Snow White repeated. "You're not being held by the Dark One anymore?" In the several times she'd met with Belle in this room, the stories she'd told were always from the Dark Castle.

"No, he lifted the restrictions. I went to go tell my parents to tell them the good news, but… but they weren't so willing to hear the part about me loving the Dark One."

"Not many people are when it comes to him. He's terrorized many across the land."

Belle remained silent, his darker ways always a subject strong enough to make her uncomfortable. She knew he'd been a monster, fueled by the desire for power and the search for his son. But he was a good person who made bad choices. She was trying to help him with that, and she'd seen a lot of improvement.

"It's still my life," Belle said quietly. "I should be with him right now."

Snow White gasped suddenly, leaning back so she could see Belle's shoulders. Her eyes went wide.

"Belle! What have they done to you?!"

Belle sat up straighter, trying to conceal the wounds on her back that were apparently visible even in their diaphanous state.

"My father," she said bitterly. "After he locked me in the tower, he sent clerics in to 'cleanse my soul' with scourges and flaying. I would have flung myself off the tower if I didn't know what it would do to Rumple. He shouldn't have to suffer through so much pain."

Snow White wasn't in the mindset to disagree, still lingering on the strangely endearing nickname.

"You call the Dark One 'Rumple'..?"

"Ugh, this is so typical," Belle said, not noticing the confusion in Snow White's tone. "We get just a few moments of happiness, then something happens to try and keep us apart. Look what he made me," Belle said, holding out the pendent. She flipped through the pages so Snow White could read, and she saw her look of incredulousness fade into one of sympathy.

"Oh, Belle… he made that? It's beautiful."

"I know! And I can't even thank him properly for it!" Belle felt a tear roll down her cheek again, and Snow White tried to pat her shoulder, only succeeding in making a portion of her body feel cold.

"Hey… it'll be okay. Why don't I… Why don't I see if I can talk to him for you?"

"What?" Belle's head shot up, her red eyes going wide. "You would do that?" She took in the kindness in Snow White's face.

"Yeah. You helped me through this terrible nightmare. It's the least I could do. Especially if it's for true love. I'm a big fan of it, myself. And it's got to be better than clerics trying to cleanse an already pure soul."

Belle would have hugged her if she could. She could feel herself fading, and all she could do was smile.

"Oh, thank you, Snow White. Thank you. Just warn him that Gaston and his men are preparing for an attack. Tell him to be careful."

"No problem," she said. "Just hang in there, okay?"

But Belle was gone from the room, awakening to another dreadful day locked in a tower.

* * *

Rumplestiltskin was worried when two days passed and Belle had not returned. By the end of the third day, he was positively anxious. He waited for the end of the fourth day, spending it pacing back and forth in his study. She still did not return.

The first thought that ran through his mind was that something had happened to her. But he quickly pushed the thought aside; she was probably just extending the stay with her parents. It was probably taking longer than normal.

But then why hadn't she written him?

He wanted to snap his fingers and end up in Avonlea, but he didn't want to seem too eager in case it really was nothing. He decided to wait until the end of the week, and if she still hadn't returned, he would go to her. And, he thought bitterly, scold her for not warning him of how long her visits would actually take. He really should have kept the restrictions on that girl. She was too much of a free soul.

He wondered if she'd discovered that her necklace was actually a real, golden book yet.

He had to admit, he was very proud of that gift. He was in the process of making another one, and he supposed that was why he was so eager for her return. He glanced at the golden band that sat atop his desk, waiting for a perfect diamond to make it complete. He was going to use the same diamonds from the fairy dust mines, because with a soul as pure as Belle's, she deserved only the best.

But she had to come _home _if she was going to receive it.

He glanced out the window, his eyes widening when he saw a cloaked figure walking down his castle's path in the heavy rain. His heart jumped with joy and he ran down the several steps to the front hall, throwing the doors open. The figure hadn't even knocked on the door yet, and her face registered the slight surprise. She was too tall, he noticed immediately, her hair too dark. His shoulders fell.

"Looking to make a deal?" he asked, masking his disappointment.

"No," the woman said, pulling back her hood. He blinked, and he forced his lips to twist into a wicked smile.

"My, my, if it isn't Snow White in the flesh. What can I do for you, dearie?"

"Actually, I'm here to help _you_," she said, gesturing to his castle. "May I come in?" She seemed to register his hesitation into letting the Evil Queen's nemesis into his home, so she spoke again.

"It's about Belle."

"What? Is she all right?" Rumplestiltskin asked immediately, but Snow White once again gestured into his castle. After another pause, he opened the doors wide and allowed her to walk inside. He saw her drip water onto his plush carpets, and he eyed her with dismay. If she noticed, she pretended not to.

"I suppose you're expecting tea as well," he said sarcastically, but Snow White smiled.

"That would be lovely." He led her up to the grand hall, snapping his fingers and glancing at the tea set that appeared on his table. Snow White poured herself a cup, humming at the warmth and the sweetness.

"Now that that's all done with," he said impatiently, "Tell me what you know about Belle." Snow White's expression became guarded now, and she gestured to his chair.

"Why don't you have a seat?"

"I'm perfectly fine standing, dearie," he assured her with a sneer. Snow White sighed, leaning against the table.

"Fine. She's with her parents."

"She's safe?" he asked, looking a bit crestfallen. "Then why hasn't she written?"

"Safe, in a manner of speaking," Snow White amended with a frown. "They weren't too kind when they learned their only child had fallen for the darkest being known to man. They locked her in a tower, they're tying to get clerics to cleanse her soul-"

He heard very little after that, his hands balling into fists at his sides. He closed his eyes as that dark rage flowed through his veins, and he pictured himself beating Maurice to bloody pulp in a very similar manner to what he'd done to the Duke.

"If you'll excuse me, dearie," he said, interrupting Snow White's rambles, "I have to make a trip."

"Wait, wait, they're preparing for your attack. Gaston-" Snow White said, and he scoffed.

"There's a reason your kingdom fears me, you know. I stopped the Ogre Wars; I have a feeling I can handle the idiot and his men."

"_But,_" Snow White said, "Belle wouldn't want you to endanger anyone for her sake. You should know that better than I do."

Rumplestiltskin paused, realizing something. He'd never seen Belle interact with anyone outside of Regina before, and she'd told him the story about how she met Red in the pub. She'd never mentioned Snow White before. She'd mentioned someone else though, in her dreams…

"You're the other person in the room of fire," he said, pointing to her. "That's how you know all of this." Snow White nodded.

"And you're the one who helped her get through it. She's told me a lot about you. Showed me the necklace. It's beautiful." Rumplestiltskin sneered again, not entirely sure how he felt about someone other than Belle realizing his soft spot for romance.

"Go, find her. Save her. But don't harm her or her village, okay? Her parents made the wrong decision trying to keep her from you, but they're still her parents. If she didn't want you to harm Regina for putting her under the sleeping curse, she's not going to want you to harm her parents for them thinking they're protecting their child."

He felt that rage flare through him again, this time at the realization that Snow White was right. He growled and nodded his head, watching as she set aside her now empty teacup and stood from the table.

"I figured someone should tell you. If not for your own sanity, then for Belle's safety." Snow White's voice was pure and kind, as gentle as her reputation claimed her to be. He watched as she began walking towards the door.

"Ah," he said hesitantly, not meeting Snow White's eye when she turned to face him, "Thank you." The young woman smiled and nodded. Once Snow White had left, he ran up to his study, threw on his cloak and pocketed his unfinished ring. He was going to give this to her no matter what. He remembered the deal – the _promise _– they had struck: "It's forever."

If Gaston had his men ready to go, he knew appearing right at the castle's doorsteps was not exactly the smartest tactic. He threw his hood over his head and appeared at the town's entrance. Stealth was probably the better route to take. He expected to see guards, certainly. But he had not anticipated being the subject of almost every conversation.

"Did you hear? The rulers are preparing for an attack by the Dark One."

"Why?"

"Rumour is he's corrupted their daughter – she's fallen for him!"

"_No! _That pretty little thing could do so much better."

He felt his lips twitch downwards when he heard the disdain in their voices, firmly reminding himself that no one needed to approve. What Belle and him had was real, and it was worth fighting for. As he went deeper into town, the rumours became more ridiculous, like how Belle had become as dark as the Dark One himself.

When he was closer to the castle, he could hear the guards talking amongst themselves, spreading even more nasty rumours. And, he realized with displeasure, Gaston was among them.

"The beast will make off with our children! He'll come after them in the night," one of the men exclaimed. Gaston nodded fiercely.

"We're not safe until his head is mounted on my wall! I say we _kill _the beast!"

_Yeah, good luck with that, _he thought bitterly as he watched Gaston head inside the castle. Rumplestiltskin headed down an alleyway and took a detour to avoid running into him. With the help of magic, he was able to get there fairly easily without being seen. He wandered the perimeter of their estate, looking through every window of every tower he could see. After several agonizing minutes, he finally spotted her, looking out the window. The grief on her stunning face was overwhelming, and, knowing his destination now, he disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

When he appeared in her room, the first thing he saw were the appalling wounds across Belle's back. Her dress was unlaced so the fabric would not touch them, probably because they still stung. That possessiveness, that anger flowed through him at the thought of these people harming _his _Belle. She was still unaware of his presence, so he silently walked up to her, waving a hand over her injuries and watching as they healed before his eyes. Once gone, magic laced her dress back up, making Belle jump in surprise. She turned to face him, and that smile on her face was all he needed to make that rage of his disappear – for now.

His arms instinctively wrapped around her waist when she greeted him with the tightest hug she had ever given him, and he heaved a sigh of relief.

"Rumple! Oh, thank goodness, I was scared I'd never get to see you again!"

"If you were going to entrust anyone with the news of your safety, I'm glad it was Snow White," he said, and Belle laughed. Amazing – she could still laugh at a time like this.

"That Snow White works fast, doesn't she?"

"It seems so."

"That's the story of you and me," Belle said with a smile, quoting Disney, though he wouldn't know it. "From the very beginning, we were meant to be." His gaze flickered to her lips at the sentiment, and he frowned when she raised her fingertips to caress his own.

"If I could kiss you right now," he said quietly, "I would."

"About that," Belle said, her eyes widening. "My parents, they have a bean. We could go to Storybrooke, you and me, and we could find Bae. We can finally get him back, have it be just like before."

His heart skipped a beat, thinking back to all of the close calls he'd had with these rare, magical beans. And Belle's parents had one.

"Where is it?" he asked. Belle gestured to the door.

"Upstairs – they keep it locked in one of mom's jewelry boxes. Come on, we have to hurry before they realize you're here!"

Rumplestiltskin unlocked the door immediately, manual locks no challenge for a man who had the most powerful dark magic across the land. Belle's time away from the Avonlea castle hadn't affected her much, as she ran through the hallways as though she remembered the layout like the back of her hand. Rumplestiltskin followed, listening carefully for footsteps or voices. It seemed most of the guards were outside that day, but there was still the matter of her parents.

"In here," she whispered. She peeked in, checking to see if the coast was clear, and once she was certain, she tiptoed in. He unlocked the jewelry box she held out to him, and his heart began to race when he saw the magic bean for himself.

_Bae, _he thought, taking the bean and pocketing it. _I'm coming back, son._

Belle smiled, kissing his cheek and taking his hand once more.

"Come on, we have to-"

"Well! I was wondering where you'd run off to. The clerics are here, Belle." Rumplestiltskin turned as the door swung open, and he was found looking into the displeased expression of Sir Maurice. The Dark One suddenly stood taller, his shoulders squaring as he looked into the man's pudgy, wrinkly face.

"Oh, look, if it isn't the man who locked his own daughter in a tower and got clerics to abuse her because he wasn't man enough to do it himself." He could feel Belle's hand on his sleeve, keeping him close to her – keeping him grounded. Maurice scoffed.

"A parent does what he has to," he said. "What would a dark soul like you know about being a parent?"

"More than you, clearly," Rumplestiltskin spat.

"Gaston!" Maurice cried over his shoulder. "Gaston, it's time! He's here!"

"No!" Belle exclaimed, but Maurice pulled Belle by the hand and pulled her to his side.

"If you think I'm going to let you _touch _her again after what you've already done to her, you've got another thing coming," he said. Belle struggled against him, and Rumplestiltskin almost resorted to magic to get her back, but Gaston ran in. He was pointing an arrow at him, but he shook his head. These people! He could only die by his own dagger.

The second the arrow struck him though, he found himself gasping from the pain. The arrow was enchanted, and while it may not kill him, it hurt like a bitch. He knew of only one person who could conjure this type of magic, and he looked up into the faces of Maurice and Gaston. Did these two people really think they knew how to love Belle better than he did?

"Been working with the Evil Queen, have you?" he said bitterly. "That's how we all ended up here, isn't it?"

"Silence, beast!" Gaston exclaimed, and he pushed him through the window, as Rumplestiltskin had done to him not too long ago. Belle cried out but Maurice held her back, and Rumplestiltskin felt himself hit the rough tiles of the castle's roof, the arrow digging deeper into his shoulder. Gaston was not far behind. As he skidded to a stop, he felt the tiles scrape at his skin, enough to cause pain for a few seconds before the wounds closed up. There was still the matter of the painful arrow stuck in his shoulder, but he was too busy thinking of multiple scenarios in which he could cause Gaston the most pain in his death.

"Get up," Gaston demanded, driven by his lust for revenge in humiliating him back in the Dark Castle. "Get _up!_" Rumplestiltskin wanted to, but the thought of murdering someone in front of Belle was enough to make him halt his desire to retaliate. He was trying to be better for her. He was trying to be _good. _But these people were making it bloody difficult.

"What's the matter, beast? Is Belle right? Are you too kind and gentle to fight back?!"

"No!" Rumplestiltskin could hear Belle's cry; he looked up to the shattered window, spotting her looking down at them and being held back by her father. Gaston was wielding his sword now, raising it above his head. Rumplestiltskin may not be willing to murder in front of her, but he was also unwilling to let others stand idly by while he was whipped by the village idiot. He grabbed the sword by the blade, realizing it too, was enchanted. He winced at the pain but used the strength of his magic to push the sword towards Gaston. He finally saw the fear register on the man's face when he overpowered him, and it felt _good._

They struggled, and any wounds the man gave him healed within seconds, but he was slowed due to the enchanted arrow in his shoulder. Rumplestiltskin found himself falling from one part of the roof to the next, trying to ignore Belle's horrified cries in the background.

"Were you in love with her, beast?" Gaston mocked cruelly. "Did you honestly think she'd want _you_ when she had someone like _me?!_"

Rumplestiltskin felt that rage again, and he tried to suppress it, but it wasn't working so well. Gaston was walking towards him, swinging his sword like a mad man. The darkness took over him and he used magic to crush his throat, swinging him over the edge of the roof, feet dangling in the air. In mere seconds, just like before, Gaston reverted from an evil knight to a sniveling coward.

"No! Don't hurt me, please! I'll do anything! _Anything!_"

"And you think I'm the beast," he growled. "It is _you_, Gaston, who is the _real _beast," Rumplestiltskin sneered, letting him fall back onto the rooftop and turning when he heard Belle call his name. She had somehow left the grip of her father and made it to the nearest balcony. He turned and faced her with a smile, glad she had at least seen him sparing Gaston's life. He could have dropped him over the edge if he wanted to. She was reaching out to him now and he climbed the tiles, reaching her hand out to her.

But then he felt that blasted enchanted sword stab him in his side and he cried out, Belle's hand the only thing keeping him steady. He felt Gaston grab at his cloak, and heard the clang of metal as he dropped his sword and it hit the roof. He was losing balance, he realized. Rumplestiltskin glanced at him, but it was too late. Gaston had fallen, was falling, with a horrific, blood-curdling scream. When it ended, he could only assume the worst. He almost lost his footing at the sight, but Belle pulled him up onto the balcony, her arms wrapping securely around him. He had a moment of peace, where he tucked a curl of hair behind her ear, and she gently caressed his cheek. For a moment, all he felt was love.

"You ready?" he whispered, and Belle nodded, watching as he pulled the bean out of his pocket.

"Ready."

He threw the bean over the edge, watching as the green portal opened up beneath them. She gave his hand a squeeze.

But then he felt Belle being pulled from him; he felt magic rippling through the air. She was torn from his grip and she fell over the side of the balcony, making him scream out in terror.

"Belle!"

He made a move to jump but magic held him, and he growled in desperation. He rushed to the edge, reaching his hand out instead and using magic to bring Belle back to him. He felt himself grasping tightly onto her hand, looking into her terrified eyes, and he was wheeled back to all those years ago, when he had been in this exact same position with Bae. Except this time, he wanted to go with her - but he couldn't.

"Go!" he heard a voice say, and looked over his shoulder, filled with dread, as Sir Maurice and Lady Rose jumped over the edge into the portal. Regina was standing by the door, using her magic to keep him in his place. They trusted Regina to keep him there – to make him let Belle go. He glared at her.

"You have to let me go," he said. "I can't lose her-!"

"The curse," Regina demanded. "You have to tell me how to revive the curse."

"You can't-"

"Then start from scratch. Either way, you're not going with your precious Belle until I get my hands on it!"

Rumplestiltskin cried out, trying to summon his own magic to fight hers. But she was relentless, and he could feel the tears threatening to fall.

"Please," he begged, feeling once more like the wool spinner pleading with a pirate for his love. "Please, we were going to find Bae. Let me go with her."

"And _I _was going to get my revenge for Snow White the_ death _ofmy true love," Regina spat. But he couldn't allow this – not after Snow White had come to him to tell him about Belle. He owed that woman more than he cared to admit.

"It's okay," he heard Belle say, and he looked back down at her.

"No," he said, refusing to let her go. He would not open his grip like he did to Bae!

"She's not going to let you go," Belle said, glancing over his shoulder at Regina who was watching them both with evil eyes. "Without magic interfering, I can actually get through to my parents – explain everything. _And _I can get a head start on looking for your son."

Rumplestiltskin felt himself crying, his head shaking left and right.

"No, Belle, no, I'm supposed to come with you!"

"The portal's closing," Regina warned him maliciously. "Either one of you goes or neither of you do."

"It's okay," Belle said again, and he could actually feel his heart shattering into pieces, his chest wrenching with pain. She looked up at him with that brave smile and those kind eyes.

"You'll find a way back, and you'll do it the _right _way. And I'll be waiting. If we're lucky, I'll be waiting with Bae." Just hearing her say his son's name again made him sob shamelessly. Years later and he was making the same mistake – he was letting the only person he loved go.

"Belle," he whispered. "I love you."

"Yes," she said. "I love you, too."

And, much too soon, he released his grip, and watched the green portal swallow her into the abyss.

Rumplestiltskin was pulled out of his sorrow when he heard Regina's evil laugh, and he stood up from where he'd been leaning over the edge of the balcony. He pressed the taller woman up against the door, pure hatred in his amber eyes.

"You really wanted that little curse, didn't you?"

"Apparently, this was the only way I could get it," she replied, meeting his glare with a wicked smile. "Now you _have _to help me. If you ever want to see Bae again – or Belle."

"What do you have left of the curse?" he asked, and Regina chuckled darkly.

"Follow me."

* * *

**A/N: **Okay. It looks bad. It probably is bad. But we're nearing the end, and that's probably a good sign that things won't be bad for very long. Right? Right. Leave me a review and let me know what you think!

PS - that novel necklace is actually a real thing! I received one when I was a child, but it said the 'Our Father' prayer instead of.. you know, romantic stuff. :)


	11. Mr and Mrs Gold

When You Wish Upon a Star

Summary: Belle French is no longer happy in Storybrooke, wanting more than what life has to offer. One night, a wish upon a star brings her to a far-off land where there are ogres, werewolves and other beasts. Thankfully, she also happens upon a wool spinner and his son. (AU)

**A/N: **Hello everyone! Sorry for the HUGE delay but I assure you I have every intention of finishing this fanfic! I will also be posting the first chapter of my newest fic, Gold Digger, if you want to check it out. The summary is as follows: _Mr. Gold is used to getting his way in Storybrooke, but everything changes the day Lacey moves into town. Quickly earning a reputation as Racy Lacey, a powerhouse woman with a fixation for provocative attire, she uses love and sex in her attempts to con the richest man in town. Will be rated M in later chapters._

All right, enough with that. Onward, readers! We will start off with the Enchanted Forest and then dive back into Storybrooke, running alongside the episode, "Welcome to Storybrooke"! Fluffy moments ahead!

**Stargate533: **Huge compliment alert! Thanks so much, hope you enjoy this chapter too!

**Manyfandomsonegirl: **Thank you! And of course they will find each other! Otherwise people would be angry. Including me.

**Belle86:** There have been many times I have wished that throughout the course of the show.

**TeamTHEFT: **Sorry this wasn't very soon, but it's here! And it's going to be complete.

**thedoctorsgirl42: **I'm sorry! Extremely sorry for the delay too, but it's here!

**MyraValhallah: **She will. Oho, she will.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Once Upon a Time.

* * *

Chapter 11: Mr. and Mrs. Gold

Rumplestiltskin had spent every waking hour repairing the damage he had done to the Dark Curse. It seemed the Evil Queen had done one thing right in her life: she'd saved the ashes of the scroll that he'd burnt to a crisp. He traveled to Lake Nostos in the hopes of finding water to restore it to its former glory, but he'd barely found a droplet of water. He'd heard rumours the siren had been killed, but really, it was all just very inconvenient. The bit of water had been enough to bring the scroll back, but the curse itself was very much damaged.

At first, he'd been woeful of how much time it would take to repair it. But then, after a dream that involved learning of Storybrooke with Belle at his side, he became driven. Some would have called him mad. Bags and dark circles formed beneath his strangely coloured eyes, and he found himself running off of caffeinated tea rather than natural energy. His life had never been all that fortunate, save for the sliver of peaceful moments that included Bae and Belle. He was more than accustomed to twisting things in his favour – and he was going to do it again.

He took the reparation of the Dark Curse as an opportunity to correct something that could have been a mistake. He barely spoke a word to the Evil Queen, vaguely answering her daily questions regarding the progress of the Curse. Eventually she left him alone, because even she noticed he was on the brink of insanity.

He temporarily ceased his deal-making; he waved away all and any visitors so that he could concentrate, and after a while, no one wanted to see him anyway. He was even more irritating than usual, because instead of clever jokes and ambiguous details of the future, he was just short. Ire. For lack of a better word, he was extremely, utterly rude.

_But it's all for their own good_, he kept telling himself, clutching the unfinished engagement ring that he wore as a pendant around his neck. He was doing the right thing. Yes, it was a curse, and yes, it was dark magic, but he was doing the right thing. He truly hoped that one morning he would wake up and believe it. He was being as good as a dark person could be, using Belle as his shining light of inspiration. The curse would not be as dark as it had once been – he hoped. The only thing he struggled with was the limitations to which he could actually modify the curse without breaking his deal with Regina.

He was unaware of how much time had actually passed, but any time was too much. Anxieties about whether or not Belle found Bae, or whether Bae was actually alive, would always rise to the surface, usually in the silent hours of the late evening. He kept pushing them aside, trying to focus on one thing at a time…

* * *

Snow White drew in a deep breath when she found herself, once again, on the steps of Rumplestiltskin's palace. She tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear before knocking on the door. Yes, she was about to approach the Dark One for help and information, but she tried to look on the bright side: she was married, she had taken back her kingdom, her nightmares were almost non-existent…

She knocked, expecting no answer. After all, rumours spread quickly in this land, especially rumours about the Dark One. He'd been rejecting people for months.

But then, the door opened. She saw one amber eye, then two. She watched as they went wide, the door actually swinging open.

"Belle – have you heard from Belle?"

Snow White faltered; really, she shouldn't have expected the Dark One to be polite and greet her, but it had just caught her off guard that his first instinct was to ask about Belle. He really cared for her more than he let on, didn't he? With a twinge of regret, she shook her head.

"She stopped appearing in that room of fire months ago. I've been having the dreams less frequently, myself. Isn't she with you?"

Then, for one split second, she saw a look cross his features. It was a look of desperate disappointment, but as quickly as it had come, it was gone, and the imp tried to slam the door in her face.

"Wait – please!" she begged. Okay – so apparently Belle was _not _with Rumplestiltskin. She'd had her suspicions after she stopped appearing in the nightmares, but she had never been sure.

Snow White thrust her shoulder forward, wedging herself between the door and its frame. Rumplestiltskin glared at her, and she noticed how exhausted he looked. She immediately braced herself for his short temper.

"What?" he growled, not opening the door wider despite the fact that he had a princess wedged in his entranceway.

"I – I'm pregnant."

Snow White saw a strange expression flicker over his face, but she didn't know what to make of it. His gaze eventually darted down to her round belly (had he missed it before?), and after a moment, he opened the door wider. Did the Dark One have a soft spot for children?

"Yes, I know," he said quietly. "She's important." Snow White was not surprised by the fact that he knew of her pregnancy, or of the fact that he knew her gender. She may have only met him briefly before, but his reputation preceded him. He knew more than he should.

"She's why I'm here," Snow explained. "Back when James and I had our wedding, she… Regina said she was going to take everything I love from me. Forever. I knew she didn't have enough power to do that." Snow White's gaze sharply met with Rumplestiltskin's.

"But then I realized: _you _do." Snow White watched as he hesitated, taking only a few seconds before he gestured into his castle.

"Why don't you come in, dearie? I'm sure you need to rest your feet."

"You'll tell me everything?" Snow White asked, and he held up a hand.

"Nothing is ever _free_, not even for the Queen. However, when one wants what the other has, a deal can always be struck."

"What do you want?" she asked, and he offered her his best half-crooked smile.

"Her name."

"Emma," Snow White said immediately, and she reached out to shake his hand – to seal the deal. He accepted with a lilting giggle that was unlike any other laugh she'd heard before.

"Emma – what a lov-el-y name. Why don't you come in, Your Majesty?"

Snow White obliged, walking into the castle. She however, was not patient enough to wait until they sat to continue their conversation.

"You're casting a curse on us, aren't you? For Regina."

"Indeed," he admitted shamelessly. "It's just about ready, in fact." The news disgruntled Snow White. She suddenly felt desperate with the need to protect her child and her kingdom; she squared her shoulders as she tried to stand up to the Dark One. The pregnant belly between them seemed to, at the very least, make her appear more intimidating.

"But why? I helped you, you know. When Belle needed you. And I didn't ask for anything in return." He held up a hand to stop her ramblings, closing his eyes as he collected his patience.

"I know. This curse was a deal made many, _many _years ago, in desperation. I am trying to correct it myself, but the terms of my agreement with Regina are fairly specific. With your co-operation and discretion, I may be able to help the next few days be as painless as possible for you and your family."

* * *

Overall, not much had changed in Storybrooke since she left it.

The few people that resided in the town were different, the cars were newer; some of the buildings had been repainted. Newer technology baffled her, but it was still small and it was still friendly. It felt like she hadn't spent that much time away from home. She heaved a sigh of relief when her bank accounts were still open, and she even did a little dance when she saw how much interest she had accrued over the years.

Belle didn't know where Baelfire was, but she had an idea as to how to drag him out of hiding.

She thought back to the portrait that had been on Rumplestiltskin's nightstand, trying to recall whatever physical details she could remember of Bae. She drew up her own poor portrait of the boy, then took it to a sketch artist and had him do up a much better portrait, aided by her descriptions.

After all of that, she went to the police. She put that flyer out there saying she was looking for a son that she had lost long ago, and that he probably looked like a much older version of the boy in the portrait. She did not give the name Baelfire, assuring police he was probably going by a different name nowadays. She flushed his face out everywhere: online, by fax, on lampposts… She hoped not mentioning Rumplestiltskin would make him reach out. But still, she wanted him to know who was looking for him, so she told anyone that knew anything about him to contact Belle. She hoped the boy's vague memories of her were positive enough to make him reach out.

It didn't.

It was amazing how little phone calls a person received regarding a missing person. Did the world not care or was her flyer more terrible than she'd realized? She got a few inquiries here and there, asking if there was a reward (there wasn't), or that they'd seen a little boy last week (she reminded them the boy would be older now). But overall, no such luck. Baelfire either really didn't want to be found or he was somewhere where he couldn't see all of her flyers.

Her parents agreed to disagree, and some days they were okay with talking about everything that happened between them regarding Rumplestiltskin. On the days they weren't okay, Rose and Belle took to showing Maurice technology, watching as he struggled pathetically to understand computers and cars. Belle understood they wanted what was best for her, but she tried to explain that she was older now, and they couldn't decide how she was going to live her life. Her forgiving heart was her weakness – it was the only reason she didn't try to run as far away from her parents as possible. She wanted her happy ending, and that included loving parents.

She lived on her own at the very least, using her now hefty savings to rent an apartment near the library. She was flipping through the newspaper one evening after dinner when her eyes widened at one of the articles.

"A _baby_ found abandoned on the side of a highway by a seven year old boy… How terrible!"

What was happening to the world? Babies abandoned on highways… things like that would have never happened in Storybrooke thirty-five years ago. She closed the paper and shook her head, getting up to ready herself for bed. At least the baby was safe and up for adoption to a good home now. As she washed her face, she drew in a deep breath to calm down the anxiety of how long it had been since she'd left the Enchanted Forest. It wasn't realistic to expect Rumplestiltskin to find a way back to her in a week or anything, but it had been several months and she was getting rather antsy. She had nothing but faith in him though. She knew he would find his way back to her. She was just worried about how long that might take. After all, she was no longer under the protection of an anti-aging enchantment. She didn't want her mother's situation where she met up with Rumplestiltskin looking decades older than him, after all.

She pushed her silly thoughts away and lowered herself into bed, furrowing her brow when the wind suddenly picked up. An evening that had been silent just seconds ago was suddenly experiencing a storm. She sat up, glancing out her window. Trees were practically bending from the strength of the wind, and after a few seconds, she felt her apartment shake.

"What the-?"

Belle grasped her sheets as if they would help keep her balance, looking out the window once more. Her eyes widened when she saw an enormous purple cloud sweeping over Storybrooke, with what looked like green lightning striking every few seconds. She immediately clambered off her bed and ran to her kitchen, hiding underneath her table. What exactly was the emergency procedure for a giant purple cloud sweeping over your home?

She cried out when she felt the apartment shake again, the wind so loud she could hear nothing else. She closed her eyes, afraid of what the storm might look like and how much it would frighten her. She had never seen anything like it before.

Wait…

Purple smoke. She'd seen purple smoke before. Never in that much quantity, but…

"Rumplestiltskin," she whispered, and just as she did, she felt something like arms wrap around her, pulling her from the table. It was him! He was here! Amongst all of the noise and all of the danger, she suddenly felt delightfully light, and she could swear she was floating over Storybrooke. When her eyes opened, however, she was no longer beneath her kitchen table.

Or in her apartment, for that matter.

Belle sat up, her eyes widening when she realized it was morning. She was sitting in some large, luxurious bed that she didn't recognize, wearing a pretty, lacey nightgown that she had not been wearing before. She ran out of the bedroom and into the unfamiliar hallway, her heart pounding. Her eyes gazed over everything – this house was _huge! _She'd never be able to afford anything like this in Storybrooke, even with her savings. She ran through every room in the entire house, her eyebrows furrowing when she realized no one was there.

Belle almost ran out in her lacy night things but gathered enough sense to go back upstairs and change. Her modest collection of outfits had expanded by a ridiculous amount. Knock offs that she had purchased from Modern Fashion were suddenly brand names that had clearly been ordered online, tailored for a perfect fit on her petite frame.

She threw on a blue, lace dress and carelessly ran a brush through her hair before hurrying out into Storybrooke at an alarming speed, considering the height of her stilettos. She reached into her purse to pull out her keys as though it were the most natural thing in the world, but her keychain had changed completely, a set of keys for the house in her possession instead. As she locked up, she did a double take at her left hand, her eyes widening at a gorgeous platinum diamond ring. The band wove around her finger and formed the shape of a heart, the shimmering diamond sitting perfectly on top. Her hand suddenly felt heavier from the weight of the luxurious ring, and after locking up, she hurried out into town. She needed answers, and she needed them fast.

When she got outside, it was like the storm had never happened.

Belle looked up at the sunny sky, tilted her head up to greet the slightly chilly breeze and looked around at all of the townspeople walking by, merrily greeting each other. Some people she recognized, but after a while she realized there were several people that she knew she had never seen there before.

She walked by the Purbeck Shoe Store, looking up at a man who was restoring the sign. The older man smiled kindly at her.

"Good morning, Mrs. Gold. How is Mr. Gold today?"

Belle was immediately at a loss for words being addressed as a "Mrs." anything, wary of the thought of having another life that she did not remember. She thought she had left memory magic that all behind her when she came back to Storybrooke. It seemed not.

As she left all she could murmur was a barely coherent "fine, thanks" before continuing on her way. A red-headed man with glasses and a kind face nodded at her while being pulled by a large dalmation.

"Lovely day, isn't it, Mrs. Gold?"

"Y-yeah," she said, watching as he crossed the street. She glanced up at a woman who, like everyone else, seemed to recognize her immediately.

"Lacey!" Belle furrowed her brow. What was a lacey? She looked down, wondering if the lace on her dress was too revealing or something. When the woman approached her, Belle looked up. She did look oddly familiar… her ears stuck out a bit, and her hair was short, but that pretty face was unmistakable.

"Snow-" she began to say, but the woman embraced her tightly, cutting her off. Belle saw the name _Mary Margaret _emblazed in small letters on the edge of her toque, so she quickly stopped herself. She returned the embrace awkwardly, wondering exactly what she was going to say next.

"The pawn shop," she whispered, "Is just a little further up the street. You will find everything you need there. Until then, avoid the mayor at all costs."

"The mayor-?" But then Snow – Mary Margaret? – _pushed _her in the other direction, and seconds later Belle heard a scream of aggravation.

"Watch where you're going!" Belle could recognize that dark voice in a heartbeat, and she did not look back as Mary Margaret apologized to Regina for running into her on the sidewalk. If everyone was playing a trick on her, it wasn't funny. But if Regina and Snow White were there, then that meant Rumplestiltskin had to be there _somewhere._

She started with walking towards the pawnshop, as per Mary Margaret's suggestion. In all her years living in Storybrooke, she'd never seen the little mint coloured building open. It was always locked, and had probably been for lease, though there were no signs that ever stated as such. When she saw it though, it looked different. There was a sign perched above the door now that proclaimed it to be the Golds' pawnshop, with thick, golden coloured blinds in every window. Seemed her husband was just beyond that red door.

With her thumb, Belle toyed with the lavish wedding ring on her finger, taking a deep breath before she pushed the door open. Old, dusty trinkets lined the shelves, but no one sat behind the desk. She shut the door behind her, walking silently to the counter and glancing at the till. A small stack of business cards sat beside it and she picked one up:

_Mr. and Mrs. Gold  
Pawnbroker & Antiquities Dealers_

_Mr. Robert Gold_

_Mrs. Lacey Gold_

Oh – _she _was Lacey! Well, she certainly preferred Belle, but she had a feeling she wasn't going to hear that name anytime soon. She tucked the card away in her purse for later, gazing through the glass at the ancient trinkets, but she stopped when she saw a photo frame on the counter, turned away so customers couldn't see.

A curious creature by nature, Belle picked it up. If this was her husband's shop, she should be able to look at his photos, shouldn't she? Turning it over, her eyes widened when she realized it was _her_ in the photo, wearing a wedding dress and smiling over her shoulder through a thin veil just before tossing a beautiful bouquet behind her. She searched her memory for any recollection of the moment, afraid that once again she had lost her memory. But then she heard footsteps behind her, and the sudden noise made her jump and shriek with surprise. The frame slipped from her fingers, and there was a sigh from behind her as it hit the floor.

"Must you chip _everything _I cherish?"

Belle's heart lifted at that brogue – no longer high-pitched or altered, no longer mirthless or dark. It was the gentle voice of a woolspinner that had taken her in all those years ago. Belle spun around and flung her arms around his neck, giggling as he stumbled back, falling onto the stool behind them. When he caught her, she saw the golden ring on his left hand, and all she could do was smile.

"You found me," she whispered, and he smiled back, wrapping his arms around her waist. His cane clattered to the floor, but she hardly paid it any mind.

"Perhaps I went a little mad in the process," he said quietly, and she laughed, pulling back to look at him. Her fingers reached out to caress his cheeks, his jaw, and run through his hair. He was calm and patient as she did so, and she could feel the tears welling up in the corner of her eyes. He wasn't the Dark One anymore. He was just… Rumplestiltskin.

"I can't believe you're really here," she whispered, and after a moment, she lightly smacked his shoulder, trying to hide the fact that she was tearing up. "And apparently you married me without leaving me any recollection?! Very presumptuous of you." She gestured back to the photo that was on the ground, and he laughed, his head tilting back slightly as he did.

"Well… to be fair, I've no recollection of it either. I actually planned to ask you before that entire fiasco in Avonlea." Belle watched as he pulled out a golden band that had been hanging on a chain around his neck, her eyes widening. The hundreds of questions that she had been ready to pelt him with suddenly vanished. The ring was very traditional: gold band, square-cut diamond… but the diamond sparkled like none she'd ever seen in Storybrooke. She recognized it immediately as a diamond from the dwarf mines in the Enchanted Forest. He'd been planning to marry her even back in his world? He quickly removed the chain and held the ring between his fingers.

"We haven't been here long, but after how many times we've been separated, I don't want to wait any longer. I know it seems like we're already married, but considering neither of us remember the actual wedding…"

Belle watched as he carefully slid off the stool, using the stable piece of furniture to prop him up on his one good knee, and the sight made her tears fall. He was clearly in a lot of pain even on his good knee, but his voice didn't waver.

"Belle," he said, savouring every word: "Will you marry me?" Belle couldn't help but laugh with joy, sending him a coy smile.

"Mrs. Gold," Belle hummed. "I think I like the sound of that." She held out her hand, watching as he slid the ring easily onto her finger. It was so much more modest next to the platinum ring she already wore, but the traditional gold band suited her so much better.

"My name's Robert here in Storybrooke," he said quietly as he got back onto his feet. "But I wouldn't be opposed to you calling me Rumple from time to time."

"So you remember – why has everyone been calling me Mrs. Gold or Lacey? Don't they remember too? Did you have to go through with the curse?" she asked, ever so curious. Rumplestiltskin frowned slightly at all the questions.

"Certain people remember. Myself and Regina, for instance. Others will remember more with time. You remember because you were not struck with the curse in the Enchanted Forest. Regina thinks everyone has forgotten everything, so you and me? We'll have to act oblivious - when she finds out about our... _situation_, she won't be so thrilled."

"How long will we have to pretend we don't know anything?" Belle asked, and he offered her a sad sort of smile.

"A while, but that's a tale for another time," he said, much to her dismay. "But… this curse was originally supposed to take away everyone's happy endings. Instead, I modified the curse to allow happy endings to those who deserve it. I hardly deserve a happy ending, but you, my dear, do, and I think that's why we're here now."

"What?" Belle's eyes went wide again, and she ignored his slightly self-deprecating comment in favour of getting him to elaborate.

"You… you gave everyone their happy endings?" she asked, touched. "How did you manage to do that without breaking your contact with Regina?"

"All Regina wanted was to be transported to another land where she could hurt Snow White since she couldn't in the Enchanted Forest. And to be fair, she _can_ hurt her here. Regina is mayor now; she has all the power. I did not _give _anyone any happy endings; I simply did not rule out the idea. So Snow White – or, Mary Margaret, as she's referred to here – is still married to her Prince Charming. His name is David Nolan. Unfortunately, the battle left him wounded and he is recovering in the hospital at the moment. I couldn't help with everything. But at least he's not a John Doe, hmm?"

"So… we're under a curse," Belle said quietly, and after a moment, he nodded.

"Unfortunately, yes. I did try to make it as pleasant as possible," he said, and there was that eagerness in his eye that he'd tried so hard to hide in the Dark Castle. That eagerness for her approval.

"How do we break it?" she asked, and he sighed.

"_We _can't. We have to wait. But it will happen. Trust me, all right? I did the best I could." The words seemed to be enough, because the anxiety on Belle's face was slowly replaced with a smile.

"I trust you," she assured him. After a moment, his hands reached out to her neck, gently caressing the chain that was tucked beneath her dress. She let him pull the necklace out, his hard gaze softening at the sight of the golden pendant of a book that he'd made her.

"You kept it."

"Wear it everyday, in fact," Belle said with a smile. With her heels, their height difference was not so vast, so she stepped towards him. She brought her face close to his, and this time, it was her eyes that flickered to his lips.

"Can I-?"

But before she could even get the question out, he pressed his lips flush against hers, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist. She couldn't fully suppress her moan; she hadn't experienced this feeling in so long. How was it that she'd loved this man for years but had only truly kissed him once before? Her lips parted and their tongues danced, determinedly exploring something they hadn't been able to before. Before she knew it, her hands were wandering, feeling the remarkable quality of his suit beneath her fingertips, pushing the jacket off his shoulders. He looked way too good in a suit – it was kind of funny how he looked so attractive in one that all she wanted to do was rip it off him. Especially after how long they'd been apart. The same sort of thoughts seemed to be wandering through his mind, his fingertips running down her back, toying with the zipper of her dress.

But the second her fingers moved to his tie he broke the kiss, smiling and laughing quietly, his breath caressing her cheek.

"Hold on."

He limped to the doors of his shop, locking them firmly and hanging up a sign that proclaimed he was gone for lunch. By the time he turned around again Belle was already wrapping her arms around his neck, crushing her lips against his. When he was forced to pull back later due to a rather important need for air, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I love you," he told her, and her smile lit up her face as she easily undid his tie.

"I love you too."

* * *

**A/N: **Hope you enjoyed the chapter everyone - the next one will be the last!


	12. Make a Wish

When You Wish Upon a Star

Summary: Belle French is no longer happy in Storybrooke, wanting more than what life has to offer. One night, a wish upon a star brings her to a far-off land where there are ogres, werewolves and other beasts. Thankfully, she also happens upon a wool spinner and his son. (AU)

**A/N: **RUMBELLE SHAPED COOKIES to **Manyfandomsonegirl **who got the reference to Robert Gold (and to any others who got the reference but didn't mention it)! I am so happy you're all still with me despite the abysmal length of time I left between chapters 10 and 11. Here's the last chapter, as promised, filled with fluff and love. I hope you all enjoyed the ride! Thank you for sticking with me this far!

For those who don't want to say goodbye just yet, check out Gold Digger (damn I love that fic name for this particular pairing)! I'll be posting Chapter 2 shortly! And to those who have already checked it out – THANK you!

Also, guys? On Friday I saw Ginnifer Goodwin buying a Japadog. No, I'm not kidding. So starstruck right now.

**TeamTHEFT: **Thank you! And you completely read my mind! Seriously, thanks for your continued reviews throughout this fic, and for checking out Gold Digger. It's such a pleasure to read your reviews!

**Stargate533: **Me too. I was so excited when I first started this fic and I'm so happy I was able to finish it. At least this means I have other fics to be excited about! Thank you so much for sticking with me through both my fics so far, I really appreciate it!

**MyraValhallah: **It took me a while to get used to it, mostly because I _love _the name Belle. But I can tolerate the name because I know she's _really _Belle, haha.

**cheesyteal'c:** Why thank you! At least this time the update didn't take forever!

**Andi88: **Hahaha I loved reading your review! Let's find out what happens!

**xanimejunkie:** Yeesh! Me too! I tried to do what the show did and constantly interrupt their line of happiness… with all the years they've spent apart, keeping them away from each other has been exhausting! I just want to give them their happy ending already!

**Manyfandomsonegirl: **HAH! Thank God somebody got it! I've read a lot of fanfics that give Mr. Gold a first name, and some of them don't seem to suit. Of course, I understand Rumplestiltskin is not exactly a common name these days. I thought… what name would better suit Mr. Gold than Robert? ;)

**DruidKitty: **Thank you! I was hoping it wasn't too out of place, haha.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Once Upon a Time.

* * *

Chapter 12: Make a Wish  


"I think I can say that this is the weirdest place I've ever done it before."

Belle turned her head to look at Rumplestiltskin with a smile, the both of them lying on a couch that sat in his back room. They were covered with a pathetically thin blanket, their clothes strewn about across the floor.

"It's my first week with the pawnshop," Rumplestiltskin replied cheerfully. "Glad I could mark it with such a good memory."

Belle laughed, but she suddenly furrowed her eyebrow when she heard something stir outside the shop. It sounded like a car.

"What's that-?"

But Rumplestiltskin had already jumped off the couch.

"Regina! Quick – get dressed. Hide the ring!"

Belle's heartbeat went from 10 to 100 in the span of two seconds, and she quickly stood up and began to dress, throwing on whatever pieces of clothing she could find first. Considering it was his first time donning a suit, Rumplestiltskin got dressed remarkably fast, smoothing out his hair and limping towards the front of the shop as Regina's fist began banging on his door, still locked from before. When he was out of sight, she slid off the golden ring he had just given her, quickly dropping it into her purse and straightening the platinum diamond ring from this world. She heard the bell jingle as he opened the door in the other room.

"_Madam Mayor – to what do I owe the pleasure?_"

"_I'm not happy._"

"_Dr. Hopper's office is across the street._"

Belle snuck to the partition that linked the back room to the front of the store, peeking around the corner as she tried to tidy the mess of curls that sat atop her head. Regina was seething, and she pointed a finger at Rumplestiltskin.

"This isn't right. Everyone else is happy except me. We had a deal," she said, and Rumplestiltskin blinked, feigning ignorance.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Regina looked crestfallen, blinking as the gears turned in her head.

"Oh, you don't, do you…" Belle's eyes widened when Regina's gaze refocused, settling on Rumplestiltskin now. "Mr. Gold – your tie is undone. And your shirt is untucked. It's not like you to be so unkempt."

Belle bit her lip, and before she could even move, Regina's piercing gaze had found her standing near the back.

"_You._"

Belle swallowed, putting on a brave face and stepping out into the shop. She pretended to look embarrassed, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks as she tugged sheepishly at the wrinkled hem of her dress.

"Good day, Madam Mayor."

"What is _she _doing here?" Regina asked, her glare finding its way to the rather generous wedding ring on Belle's finger. Mr. Gold tilted his head lightly to the side, his stare suddenly cold and calculating as though wondering what was wrong with her.

"What do you mean? This is her shop too."

"_Her _shop?" Regina repeated. "But I- but she fell-!" There was a vein pulsing in her head, and it really looked like it was about to pop and ruin the woman's tragically beautiful face. Clearly the woman was confused by her presence, but could not explain why without sounding strange. So Regina turned to her, gesturing to her as though she were dirt.

"What are you doing running a pawnshop? Don't you like _books _or something?"

"Yes," Belle answered immediately, but Rumplestiltskin gently grasped her wrist in warning – to let him do the talking. She wasn't hit with the curse in the same way that the rest of them were, and as such, she was not filled with the same knowledge that the curse had given everyone else from the Enchanted Forest.

"But the library's been closed for years, Madam Mayor. As long as Lacey and I have been married," he said.

"And how long has that been?" Regina asked, arching a brow. Rumplestiltskin hummed, looking down at her now.

"I'm not sure – how long _has _it been, Lacey?"

"Umm… as long as I can remember," she answered innocently. Regina exhaled a breath.

"Fine. Sorry to have troubled you. I'm sure I'll see you both at the next town meeting."

"As always, Madam Mayor," Rumplestiltskin said as she turned on her heel and left. Once they heard her drive off, Mr. and Mrs. Gold looked at each other with relief.

* * *

It was amazing how quickly a curse could make time pass without them noticing.

It was already their twenty-ninth time celebrating Mr. Gold's forty-ninth birthday in Storybrooke. Rumplestiltskin, on the other hand, had been turning forty-nine for almost a century already. He sighed; for someone who couldn't age, he felt really old. Belle had left early that day to prepare a special birthday dinner, even though he insisted against it. But of course, Belle was always determined to make birthdays special no matter what, so she ran off all giddy.

He was polishing a silverware set in the pawnshop when his cellphone vibrated, and he furrowed his brow when he realized Belle was calling him from home.

"Even if dinner's ready, love, I have to keep the shop open until six."

He was met with silence on the other end, and he shook his head when he realized it was a pocket dial. Just as he was about to hang up, he heard a man laugh. It was muffled and it was quiet, but it was a laugh.

_What?_

He greedily pressed the phone more firmly against his ear, going still and silent as he listened. He heard Belle laugh next, and felt instantly jealous that she had another man over at _his _house on _his _birthday. Screw his hours of business, he had to get home, and he had to get home now.

As he locked up, he almost considered calling Sheriff Swan and yelling at her about breaking the curse she didn't believe in as well as Belle's possible infidelity, but neither of those topics were wise decisions, so he refrained. He hopped into his Cadillac and drove as fast as he could down the street, trying to push the sound of a man laughing out of his head.

Wanting to catch them in the act if it were true, he didn't pull into the driveway, but parked along the street. He hurried up to his house as quickly as he could, looking up at all the windows. He could see Belle with her back to the window, talking about something he couldn't hear. And then, a few seconds later, a man appeared, and Belle leaned forward and hugged him tightly before she ran off to some other part of the house.

"_Charming?!_" he hissed. Ever since he'd woken from the coma, that man had been nothing but a nuisance. He hadn't allowed Snow and Charming to keep their memories here with the curse so the bastard could cheat on his wife!

He stuck his key into the lock, and he could already hear the voices from inside reacting to the sound.

"Oh my god. He's home early!"

"Hide!"

He heard a door creak, and immediately knew that Charming had been shoved in the bathroom. It was the only door in his house that creaked.

Still, he'd never felt so sick in his life. He pushed open the door and saw Belle hurrying down the stairs, cheeks flushed. He felt something similar to hate bubble low in his stomach when he saw her doing up the belt on her pants.

"Robert," she said breathlessly. "You're home early."

"Yeah," he said darkly. "Yeah, I am. Got a call from you, _dearie._"

"What?" Belle looked baffled as she pulled her cellphone out of her back pocket, confirming that her phone had placed the call. She paled considerably.

"Wait- wait, it's not what you think."

"Like hell it's not. Out of my way, _Lacey_," he said her false name with disdain. "I'm going to get my hands on that low-life twat."

He limped heavily to the bathroom, throwing open the creaky door. David Nolan jumped in surprise, and was left standing there with a sheepish look on his face, several feet of "Happy Birthday" streamers tangled in his arms. The man didn't look one bit disheveled, nor even all that nervous.

"I guess," David said with a timid chuckle, "That would be me: the low-life twat."

Rumplestiltskin blinked, his gaze no longer focused on the birthday streamers, but the garbage can that had been knocked over in David's startled jump. He saw a white stick with a pink plus sign in the centre.

He spun around, eyes wide when he realized a huge crowd of people were standing behind Belle now, all holding up the birthday decorations that none of them had been able to put up when he came home early.

"Surprise!" they all screeched, and Mary Margaret herself was standing right by Belle. He barely reacted, looking back at Belle with a still-stunned expression.

"Are- are you-?"

"Well, I was going to wait until after the party to tell you," Belle said with a nervous smile as she placed a hand over her stomach, "But you barely gave me enough time to wash my hands and pull up my pants, so hiding the evidence wasn't exactly a priority."

Excessive amounts of joy and relief flooded his system, and Rumplestiltskin found himself laughing, wrapping his arms tightly around his tiny wife. The people all around them laughed and clapped, and he heard shouts of "Congratulations" here and there. This meant Emma's presence was working - she was going to be the saviour to break this wretched curse. Things were changing in Storybrooke. The pregnant Ashley Boyd had been stuck in her first trimester for 28 years before Emma came along, and no one else developed a family. Now Belle was finally pregnant, something they'd been trying to plan for years.

"You've outdone yourself this year," he said to her, and Belle grinned, pulling away from the embrace now.

"Well, it's Emma's first time celebrating either of our birthdays since she's arrived in Storybrooke. Thought we'd show her how to do it right."

"Oh yeah," Emma said sarcastically from where she stood behind Mary Margaret. "Making your husband think you were cheating on him is a great birthday surprise reveal."

Laughter rumbled through the crowd, and Belle waved a hand at all of them.

"Okay! Let us out of this tiny bathroom. Let's celebrate!"

He had a million questions about the baby, but Belle immediately dragged him out, and he marveled at how many people were there. He wasn't exactly the friendliest gent in the town, but almost everyone was there. Even Henry was there, grinning at him and tugging on his sleeve to get him to stop badgering Belle and her still-flat stomach.

"Happy birthday, Mr. Gold!"

"Oh - thank you, Henry." He smiled at the boy, and while he was grateful for everything Belle had done, the news of her pregnancy made him realize exactly who was missing from this party.

He had to find Baelfire.

* * *

"So this is it, huh?"

Belle and Rumplestiltskin stood before the orange painted line. The man nodded, but she could tell that he was distracted; lost in his thoughts.

"Once I have that potion ready, I can enchant my most cherished possession and I will cross this line. I'm so close to finding him, Belle."

"You are," she agreed with a supportive smile. "Say - what would happen if I crossed the town line?"

"I'm not entirely sure," he said, glancing at her. "The curse was not cast upon you in the Enchanted Forest. You found yourself in the middle of it, so you were subject to its time restrictions, but... you were never given a Storybrooke identity. So I don't know if you would lose your memories, but I wouldn't think so."

"Good. And hey, I had a Storybrooke identity way before you ever did," Belle reminded him with a smirk. He laughed.

"Yes. That's-" He stopped speaking abruptly when Belle released his hand, walking closer to the line. "Belle! What are you doing?" He watched in horror as she hopped over the town line, paralyzed with fear when she turned to face him from the other side.

"B-Belle?!" The thought of Belle forgetting him again terrified him; but Belle just smiled, cocking her head lightly to the side.

"Yes, Rumplestiltskin?"

"Good God, woman, you're going to give me a heart attack one of these days." he clutched at his chest, trying to calm down his rapid heartbeat. Belle just giggled.

"Now. Tell me - what's the difference between the stars on your side of the line and the stars on mine?"

Rumplestiltskin blinked, a little bit stunned by the question. Not so much by what he was supposed to answer, but where it was coming from. She had risked losing her memories to ask him _that?_

"What? Erm-" He tried to think of the answer that Belle wanted to hear. "The stars on my side have magic and the stars on your side don't?"

Belle grinned and shook her head.

"No."

Rumplestiltskin felt a little annoyed by the flat out rejection of his answer. Belle just laughed, pointing to the stars above his head on his side of the line.

"You see that? All of _those? _Almost seventy years ago, a bright star in the sky - from plain, ordinary, pre-magic Storybrooke, brought me to you. Before we cross this line, we are going to make a wish on another Storybrooke star, and we are going to find your son."

Rumplestiltskin looked up at all the stars, and as usual, Belle helped him realize just how beautiful his surroundings were.

As the breeze picked up, he closed his eyes, savouring the feeling of it toying with the tips of his hair and the edges of his coat. Belle crossed the line back onto his side, put her hands on his shoulders, and looked up at him with a smile. She waited patiently until he opened his eyes and looked at her again.

"Now," she said, "Robert Gold. Rumplestiltskin. Let's go home, let's finish that potion and _go find your son_." He looked down at her with nothing but love and appreciation, unbelievably grateful for the source of good that Belle had been in his life. She created this goodness within him that he would have never had without her – she made him the best version of himself.

"You're coming with me?"

"Of course I am. Are you daft? Why would I ever leave your side at such an important time in your life?" Rumplestiltskin placed a hand on her stomach.

"But what about-?"

"She's coming too," Belle assured him firmly. "Even when she blows me up and I become the size of a whale. Don't think you have a choice in this, Rumple - she's going to want to meet her much, much, much older brother."

Rumplestiltskin smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist. A boy and a girl - that's all he could really ask for.

And, as they would for many years to come, they shared true love's kiss. The fear that Rumplestiltskin had been feeling for a while began to dissipate. Unlike last time, he was here for his wife while she was carrying his child, and likewise, she was there for him. Fear would not help him push forward. Fear would not help him find his son in the land without magic.

But Belle would.

Rumplestiltskin looked back up at the stars and smiled. Suddenly the path ahead of him was filled with promise, a bravery he had never felt before, and…

He glanced at Belle, who was resting her head in the crook of his neck.

Love.

It was all he'd ever truly needed.

* * *

**A/N: **The End!


End file.
